Come Fly With Me
by raykoRavenclaw
Summary: Everyone had thought he was evil, which was why after five years of being locked away at Azkaban it came as a shock to Hermione Granger that Draco Malfoy was indeed innocent all along. Now that he's free, what's in store for his future, and hers? Post book 7 and slightly AU. Now with weekly updates, plz r&r!
1. Come Fly With Me

**Come Fly With Me**

******A/N: **My first and probably only attempt at Draco/Hermione. Before them, I was strictly canon, but I couldn't resist such a sizzling pairing forever, could I?

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**Come Fly With Me**

**Chapter 1**

_Ginny's looking far along_. The thought came to Hermione Granger as the two sat down at the little bistro where they met almost daily for lunch. Though, for only five months, she thought perhaps Ginny was on the larger side. Could it be twins? Didn't that gene usually skip a generation in families?

"'Mione?"

"Huh?"

"If you're gonna just stare off into space for the next hour, I'll eat your lunch for you."

Hermione peered down the meal she had just bought; a plate of chicken salad and earl grey tea. Looking back up at her friend, she didn't doubt her food might be nicked if she wasn't careful.

"So, what's on your mind?"

Hermione shrugged. "Your pregnancy, I guess. I still can't get over it, you're gonna be a mum."

"You'll be an auntie."

"Not biologically."

"You could always give Ron another shot." Ginny wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Hermione bit back her grimace. "We both know that's not happening again."

"Too bad, for a while there I thought we'd be sisters. But if you two are set on staying friends…"

"How's Harry?" Hermione changed the subject.

Ginny gave up and obliged. "Harry's fine. You haven't seen him in a while though, have you? Maybe you should come over for dinner tonight."

"Can't. You know Keeve's coming back from Blackpool tonight." She began to fork through her salad.

Ginny nodded, swallowing a piece of food. "Shame you're dating a muggle. If he was a wizard, he could apparate from there to here in a second."

Hermione grinned playfully. "But unlike most wizards, he's got quite the car."

When their chuckles subsided, Ginny added, "but seriously, how's it between you two?"

"Same as I told you last time. Always the gentlemen, never pressures me."

Ginny nodded, "and you still suspect he might pop the question?"

Hermione became bashful, putting her fork down. "Well, we have been together for almost two years. We' pretty serious."

Ginny's suggestive eyebrow wiggling returned. "Maybe not serious enough. Maybe you need to give him a little encouragement to propose."

"Gin, you know I can't. I mean, sometimes I really wish I could, but I just can't."

'I know, I know. It's those damn morals your parents beat into you as a child. No shagging before marriage dear, no enjoyment, no bloody fun until you're tied down to one bloke. Blah, blah, blah."

Hermione ignored her friend's mocking voice and smiled on. "It's not all that bad. Sure, it's not really a modern view, but in some ways I think it's kind of romantic, to save yourself for—"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You go ahead and be romantic Hermione." The girl was missing out! "What would I do without Harry every night—?"

"Well you wouldn't be five months pregnant for one." Hermione laughed. "And that doesn't count, you're married to him. I just gotta get myself married and then…"

Ginny reached over the table, patting her hand. "He'll propose soon, I'm sure. And then you can join in the excitement, see what it's all about." Her sympatric smile dropped ever so slightly however, when another thought came to mind. "For Merlin's sake Hermione, I just realized, you're going to be twenty-four next month and you're still a—"

"Shhh! I don't want the whole bistro knowing my business."

"Business? What business? You're not getting any, remember?" Ginny crossed her arms, looking down at her empty plate. "I'm not full yet."

Hermione pushed her plate forward. "You can have some of my chicken salad. I'm not that hungry."

Ginny gladly pulled the plate in front of her. "Come over for dinner on Saturday, 'Mione. Neville's stopping by as it is."

"Oh, and how is he doing? He doesn't show up at the flat for Luna anymore, they usually meet just somewhere."

"He actually just got back from a mission out east. Didn't Luna tell you? I was supposed to go with him, but ever since my tummy started showing the Ministry's got me doing strictly auror paper work. It's horrendous."

"Just think, another four months of it, and then you're off to take care of the baby."

"Don't remind me." Ginny groaned, dropping her fork. "I don't think I'm nearly ready. And I miss going out on missions now…wonder how I'll feel when I'm completely away from the job."

"You'll cope. You'll only be taking six months off work anyhow." She took a long sip from her tea. "So…what's this mission Neville's coming back from? Luna hasn't told me much lately, she's usually working late down in the lab."

"He just came back from Russia, and you know I can't tell you what for, that's auror top secret business." Ginny smiled, adding a moment later, "but as for Luna, I can tell you why she's been working late. The whole enchantist department is down there trying to formulate a spell for the Ministry to clean up this whole Death Eater business."

Hermione involuntarily shuddered at the name of Voldemort's followers. It had been five and a half years since his defeat, but sometimes when wizards and witches were caught off guard, the name could dig up nasty memories.

"What business is that? I remember Luna mentioning something about being assigned to create some new sort of spell that they were going to use on Azkaban prisoners, but—"

"That's the one, and from what I've heard at work today, they've finalized it. It's just awaiting Ministry approval and then the prototype is going to be tested—"

"Tested on prisoners? What exactly is this new spell going to achieve?"

Ginny took a moment to swallow some salad before answering. "You know how it was after Voldemort was defeated for good. With only about a quarter of his Death Eaters still alive, half of those were fighting all the way to Azkaban, the other half claiming they were under the Impervious. So now the Ministry's enchantists have been appointed to create a spell to figure out who's lying, and who's telling the truth."

"You mean like Veritaserum Potion?"

"Sort of, but the thing is, a lot of those people are crazy. They've spent three, four, even five years at Azkaban, so who knows what sort of lies they've been able to convince themselves of. No, this spell is a simple marking spell. It will mark anyone who was still free-willingly loyal to Voldemort at the time of his death. Quite the clever little spell."

"Sounds ingenious." Hermione took another sip of her tea. "So…do you think you'll find any innocent victims there?"

Ginny shook her head. "Doubt it. The aurors who captured them were very careful about doing their job. The trials were a lot more thorough this time around."

"And if you do find anyone innocent?"

Ginny shuddered. "I don't even want to begin to imagine what they had to go through, being guiltless this whole time."

"But remember Sirius? It was his innocence that saved his sanity. If there is anyone in Azkaban that shouldn't be, maybe their sanity is still intact too."

Ginny pushed her plate away from her. "You know what, suddenly, I don't feel so hungry anymore."

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**A/N**: The title of this story is from a song sung by many people in the past, such as Frank Sinatra, but I'm using the newer Michael Bublé version as the theme song to this fic. If you get a chance youtube it!

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updated 9/13/2013.


	2. It Had to be You

**Come Fly With Me**

**A/N: **The title to this chapter, "It had to be you", is a song sung by Frank Sinatra/Michael Bublé …I'm using the Bublé version for this chapter.

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**It Had to be You**

**_Chapter 2_**

"Hey Hermione, I thought you'd be out tonight."

Hermione looked up from the couch. Her roommate, Luna Lovegood, had just walked in at half past ten.

"Hey Luna…no, I was supposed to go out, but Keeve called a couple of hours ago and said he got held up in Blackpool."

"That's terrible." Luna shrugged off her coat, hanged it up by the door, and flopped down on the couch next to Hermione. "So, what are we watching on the telly?"

Hermione looked back at the television in front of them. "Nothing much on right now, just an old Audrey Hepburn movie."

Luna nodded in her dreamy way. "That's that muggle from the fifties and sixties, right? She's rather fascinating."

"Yes, she rather is." Hermione repressed a teasing smile. "Hey though, you're late home tonight. I'm guessing it has to do with that spell you mentioned."

"Ah yes, it does." Her smile widened. "It's complete. It took awhile to get the words and sounds right, for it to make the right effect, but it's finally ready. They'll be using it come tomorrow."

"Wow, so soon?"

"Uh-huh."

"Is your team of enchantists ministering the spell, or are the aurors doing it?"

"We're instructing the aurors, and they'll be taking it from there. Oh…that's her, isn't it?"

Hermione followed Luna's eyes to the T.V. "Yes, that's Audrey."

"It's a shame this movie is in colour though. I love the black and white worlds better than the colour ones you see on the telly. They're just more believable, somehow."

With Luna's face focused on the television, Hermione too let her mind unwind.

oOo

St. Mungo's had been having one of its busiest days that next morning. What with a group of muggle mountain climbers being rushed in from a giant attack, a boat full of wizard tourists almost drowning in a mermaid infested lake up north, plus the usual array of people who got into the strangest of situations, Hermione didn't know where to start. The choice was about to be made for her, however.

A spunky brown Scops owl tapped the window with its beak, requesting entrance into the office that as head Healer of that hospital floor, Hermione possessed. Recognizing the owl immediately, and wondering what sort of advice her friend the Minister of Magic might need from her, she opened the window and accepted the letter.

One might wonder, just how her friend Ron Weasley came to be Minister of Magic. The fact that he was the youngest minister in over three centuries might raise a few eyebrows. Truth be told, Ron had not been chosen democratically, but he was, for lack of a better term, forced into his current job. It had happened just over two years ago.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minster at the time, had been traveling home from another tedious Death Eater trial. As far as he was concerned, they were all guilty; he could see it in their eyes. The thought took him back to over a year ago, when the Malfoys stood trial. Yes, the son had eyes just like his father, piercing, cold and diabolical. He had been lost in his thoughts, which would explain his lack of awareness, and the reason why a Death Eater still on the loose had been able to attack him that night. It hadn't been one of the unforgivables, no, it had been another hex used by most Death Eaters, in which they left their victims dying as slowly and as painfully possible within the hour. Lying face down to the ground, Shacklebolt cursed the anti-apparition and floo wards he had on his house. Otherwise, he wouldn't have had to take the long way home. With minutes of life to go, a young man came into view. With fuzzy eyesight Kingsley shifted his head so he could see the owner of the footsteps. Before his crude vision was a gangly boyish man with flaming red hair. A Weasley, and by the looks of it, the youngest male Ron, who had been training as an auror in the ministry.

"Minister!" Ron was on his feet in seconds, kneeling before the dying man.

"I haven't much time…"

"I—I came to give you your—what?—you left your papers behind at the trial—what, what happened?"

The Minister closed his eyes and struggled against the pain it took to breathe. "A Death Eater has attacked me."

"Minister…you're dying."

"Yes…quick, before I go…someone has to…"

"Has to what? What is it? I'll go get some help. I'll bring you to St. Mungo's. I'll—"

With what remaining strength he had left, Shacklebolt rolled over onto his back, and grasped Ron's head. "Listen to me Ron! There is not time to…no time. You need to take this information, take it, the minister's information."

Ron's mouth dropped open like a gold fish. "What…?"

"No time…take it, it's yours, you are minister now. No time to choose…"

Kingsley's gripped tightened and Ron crouched forward clutching at his head too, for a tumble full of information, thoughts, and voices came spilling into his mind at once.

"Stop it! STOP IT!" Ron shrieked, his head feeling like it was splitting in too.

Shacklebolt dropped his hand, collapsing from the endeavour. Seconds later, he stopped breathing as well. At twenty-one, Ron had just become the youngest Minister of Magic in over three hundred years.

The voices died down within minutes. The thoughts were there in his mind, thoughts of the past ministers dating back thousands of years, all in sync with his own thoughts it seemed. The information was there; he knew things he shouldn't. In one moment he felt as though he had aged over a million years. And yet the world seemed bigger, somehow.

At first, the people weren't happy with the turn of events. If they could elect a proper leader and appoint him, then Ron could pass the information down, and go back to auror-training. But finding someone to replace him wasn't something to be done in as little as a month, and in the months that followed, Ron proved to be an unexpectedly decent Minster. Being best friends with Harry Potter improved your image, and having a friend like Hermione Granger meant you made overall good decisions for the wizarding world.

Which was why, two years later, Ron was still Minister of Magic, and his older brother Percy was very, very jealous. This was also why the moment Hermione saw his owl she couldn't help but think, what advice does he need from me now?

_Hermione, floo to my office the second you get this. There's something I need you to do for me, and there's something I need to discuss with you as well._

_Ron._

Minutes later, as Hermione entered Ron's office and saw his stern pale face, she realized it must be something serious. Motioning for her to sit in the seat across from his desk, she took and it and waited for him to explain. When he said nothing, she prompted him.

"Ron, what's the matter?"

Ron took a second to clear his throat before saying;

"It's Draco Malfoy."

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updated 08/25/13


	3. Unforgettable

**Come Fly With Me**

**A/N**: Nat King Cole sings this one beautifully…and there's even a modern version where his daughter sings along with him, a lovely duet.

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**Unforgettable**

**Chapter 3**

Hermione blinked. Had she heard him right? "Excuse me?"

"Draco Malfoy. Death Eater, him and his father during the war, habouring Voldemort and Bellatrix. Not to mention imprisoning us…though Harry did save his life, and Narcissa was pardoned for saving Harry's, the father and son were still charged eventually for being Death Eators, for being loyal to Voldemort, for killing, cursing many." Ron shook his head. "Not a death eater, not loyal to Voldemort, and hadn't killed."

"Ron…what are you talking about?"

Ron stood up, and began pacing his office. "Listen to what I'm saying 'Mione. He's not evil, he's innocent! Innocent! Five bloody years in Azkaban, never complained, never said anything about being innocent, and yet he is!"

"I'm not sure I'm following…are you saying that Draco Malfoy, as in the Malfoy who almost killed Dumbledore, who lived with Voldemort in his manor during the war and whose father had us in his dungeon when Bellatrix…hurt _me…that_ Draco, was never on their side?"

"Yes, that's what I'm saying."

"Oh. Well as long as we got that cleared up." He didn't miss her sarcastic tone.

"I know, it sounds ludicrous, impossible even…but it's not. You know that new spell the ministry's enchantists have been working on…the dark mark spell? We performed it on every Death Eater taken into Azkaban custody, and three people were found innocent."

"What?"

Ron shook his head irritably. "It's how the spell works. It was performed this morning. They all have that bloody dark mark on their arms, but the spell blackened every dark mark of those truly loyal at the time of _his_ death, and for those innocents who had changed sides, their dark mark faded so that there was only a skin coloured mark carved into their flesh."

"Like removing a tattoo." Hermione said incredulously. "So that means there's three people who are innocent? And you're sure the spell is perfect?"

"Yes, it's been tested, worked on and ministry approved. It's flawless."

"Then Ron, what do you want me to say? If Malfoy was one of the three…"

Ron came to a halt in his pacing, raking a hand through his fiery hair. "But it doesn't make sense 'Moine. How can I let him go, knowing what he did—"

"He didn't do anything, according to your spell."

"That's what I don't understand. For years we thought he was evil, but, what if we were wrong?"

"Only one way to find out. Ask him."

"He's not in the talking mood right now."

"I suppose Azkaban will do that to you." She muttered, feeling an uncomfortable shiver streak up her arm.

"Anyway, I have no choice, I have to free him and the other two. This is not the main reason I called you here, just the more disturbing one. My real reason for having you here is to notify you that these three people will have to be receiving the anti-dementor potion at St. Mungos, and I'm appointing you in charge of it, because one, you're the head of the healing potions at St. Mungos, and two, you can keep an eye out on all of them for me."

"So you mean, I'll be administering the potion to them—"

"Twice a week, I think is the prescription. It'll probably be a couple of months before they heal from the distress inflicted by the dementors…"

Hermione would not meet his eye after his last remark. He knew how she felt about the dementors; how Harry and Ginny and a lot of other close friends felt. Why were they still at Azkaban? During the war they had gone over to Voldemort's side. They were wild creatures, and shouldn't be stalking the dungeon halls of any prison. Though after Voldemort's fall, they seemed to become controllable again, as if a taming switch had been turned on. It didn't fool her, but Hermione knew better than to bring up the old topic of taking them out. If it were up to Ron alone, then they would have been long gone, but like it or not, the majority of the wizarding world still felt safer knowing the dementors were at Azkaban watching over the prisons, sucking their very souls dry. Ron couldn't go against the majority opinion, and so, the dementors stayed.

"We'll be freeing the three tonight. Tomorrow each of them are to report to you at St. Mungo's where you can give them their potion. However they decide to re-build their lives, they are to visit St. Mungo's at least once or twice a week to take their potion, until the depression wears down and they are at normal mental capacity again."

"And Malfoy's one of them?"

"Yes."

"Alright then, this should be interesting."

Regardless of what she said, Hermione wasn't sure what to expect that next day. Her first appointment was with twenty-six year old Emalia Rosier.

Emalia's father had been one of the earliest members of the Death Eaters, and it had been thought she too was one of Voldemort's followers. Emalia in the earlier years of her life had been brainwashed with her father's ideals, but it was at Hogwarts that she came to realize things were different. She had never been aware of the Order of the Phoenix, yet, had she been, she would have turned to them. Instead she was left to pretend to follow her father, though never was she loyal to Voldemort, and never had she killed or hexed anyone with an unforgivable curse. The evidence that brought her to Azkaban had been faulty and mostly pertaining to her father, not her.

When the clock struck nine, Hermione watched as a wearingly thin young woman stepped lightly into the potion-administering room. She walked as though she was fighting the urge to faint, and her eyes were cloudy, the skin below them, dark and bruised as if she hadn't known a night of sleep her whole life. Her hair was light brown and thinning, though it wasn't matted to her head, as Sirius' had been the first time Hermione had seen him. She supposed Emalia had taken possession of her house again and was able to bathe the prison stench away.

"Hello, you must be Emalia. I'm Hermione Granger, and I'll be your healer for the next couple of months." Hermione moved forward to help the woman take a seat on the hospital bed.

Emalia looked up with her cloudy eyes, blinking in acknowledgment.

"So…Emalia. I'm not sure what they've told you, but you're here to receive the anti-dementor potion. It'll cure you from any depression you have obtained while at Azkaban…but you'll have to tell me if you do have any depressive symptoms, and I'll have to record down your progress."

Emalia looked down back at the ground. "How long do I have to come here?"

Hermione waited for Emalia to make eye contact before answering. "You need to come here once or twice a week, depending on the quantity we prescribe for you, and it'll probably take about two or three months for the potion to work its effects on you."

"And then, I'll be 'normal' again?"

Hermione noted her words sounded almost bitter. "You won't be under Azkaban and dementor depression anymore, yes."

Emalia nodded, saying nothing more.

Hermione's second appointment was with an older man in his late forties. Judging by the look of him when he walked into the room however, Hermione would have guessed he was pushing sixty. Regardless of his appearance, he looked like he was making the effort to smile at her when he came into the room.

"Hello, you must be my healer."

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Yes, and you are Terrence Kobstone?"

"Indeed."

"Please sir, take a seat by the bed, and I'll explain everything to you."

Mr. Kobstone sat himself on the bed looking back at her expectantly.

Clearing her throat, Hermione began. "Have they informed you of why you are here?"

He nodded. "To take some blasted potion that's supposed to help me mentally recover from Azkaban. No offence love, but I told 'em, I said, I was all right. It would take more than four years to bring me down. I want to get out, to start traveling, and see all the world that I've missed. But they said, they said, I gotta wait a couple of months first, come here twice a week and take a potion to help me."

"Yes sir, that's right."

"But I do feel better. Just being out of there, out in the open, I'm better. I'm not saying those dementors weren't nasty little buggers, but I'm away from them now. I'm okay."

"I'm afraid it's the ministries decision, not mine as to if you are well enough to go off and travel yet or not. They have decided that you need to take this potion anyways, so you're going to have to. I'm sorry Mr. Kobstone."

"No, don't feel bad, it's not your fault. I guess a little pinch of potion won't hurt this old man. I just hate having to sit around my ancient house…it's full of dust and creatures and I don't like the idea of staying behind to clean it all up."

Hermione gave him another warm smile. It seemed that this man had been almost untouched by the dementors. Perhaps knowing one self's innocence helped after all. Then again, as he smiled back at her, she almost felt as though he was putting on an act. Perhaps Terrence Kobstone was in denial.

Her final appointment was scheduled for eleven-thirty, just before her lunch break. She hated to admit it, but this was the one she was most nervous about. The last time she had seen her old school mate (though mates they were definitely not) was at the end of the war. He had been sitting with his parents in the great hall, looking very uncomfortable as everyone around them celebrated Voldemort's death. Had she remembered it right? How could he have been fighting on the wrong side during that battle, yet still be innocent?

She remembered the way he looked that year. Barely seventeen, tall with his pale skin and platinum hair, looking tired and frightened like a child.

She was lost in her thoughts when in through the room's doors stepped Draco Malfoy, the man of the hour.

In that moment she noticed two things. One, that trademark sneer he wore whenever he saw her was gone, and two, he was even taller, even paler and thinner than when she had last saw him.

"Malfoy." She had meant to say it curtly, as if to tell him she was doing her job, not trying to be sympathetic. But instead it came out as a sort of strangled whisper.

She had not expected him to look like that. No amount of years at Azkaban would make her think otherwise of her mental image him. She had pictured him strolling in there, scoffing at her, insulting her, and telling her he didn't need her help. She had been prepared for that, but this? No, she hadn't been prepared for this.

"Granger." The word came out harsh and deep, but not in a contemptuous way. He sounded more like a wounded man on the defense, not a vicious one on the attack.

"Go…sit over there." She waved her hand over to the hospital bed, struggling to gain her composure.

This was Draco Malfoy? This soulless, grim creature standing before her? Where was the ruthless Death Eater, the sharp-tongued superior boy?

She knew Azkaban did things to people, she'd be a fool not to. But she really wasn't ready for this.

Draco silently sat himself on the bed, keeping his eyes locked on her, as if waiting for something. Waiting for her to hit him with a hex or something, Hermione figured.

"Look Mal—Draco. Do you want me to call you Malfoy, or can I call you Draco?"

He gave her a half shrug for a response.

"Alright, D-Draco. You can go ahead and call me Hermione or Granger, or whatever, just nothing insulting please."

When he didn't answer, she continued. "You know why you're here, correct?"

He nodded slowly, never letting his gaze drop from hers once. It was the eeriest thing Hermione had ever experienced, looking him in the eye. His steel-greys still pierced anyone who looked into them, but they were different someone, more gloomy and desolate, as if there wasn't a human soul left behind them.

"Okay, so you know that you'll be expected here twice a week, and I'll be giving you the anti-dementor potion to help you get back on your feet."

"I'm already back on my feet Granger," His voice was monotone and lifeless. "I've taken back ownership of my mansion and my fortune."

"Yes I know, but what I meant was getting your mental health back up to its normality."

His mouth twitched, as if he meant to smile. "So you think I'm mad, do you?"

Hermione dropped her gaze. It was too hard looking at him without being affected. "I think you're the most sane out of the three of you I've seen today. But you've changed, that much is evident. And it's up to me to make you your usual self again."

She couldn't help but think that maybe the change was for the better. Was there a way she could bring him back to his old self without the animosity included?

oOo

"You're kidding."

"No Gin, I'm not."

"Seriously Draco Malfoy? Bane of our Hogwarts years? A lifeless drone?"

"Yes."

"Well, it serves the little ferret right, after all he's done—!"

"But he's really done nothing, or else he wouldn't be innocent and out of Azkaban, Gin."

Ginny took another bite of her grilled veggie sandwich. "Innocent hah! I'm talking about him back at school 'Moine. Don't you remember what an ass he was? The hell he put you through, just for being muggle-born?"

Hermione sighed. "It's unforgettable Gin, but that's besides the point. No innocent wizard deserves Azakban, and Azkaban has changed him—"

"Good. Five years at Azkaban ought to have sorted him out—"

"Ginny!" Hermione gasped. "I'm going to assume your hormones are making you go way out of line here, and that you wouldn't rationally say it otherwise. I mean, if you saw him, actually saw what he's become, you wouldn't say that. He's been destroyed Gin. Azakban, it's killed him."

Ginny put her sandwich down. "You know, I gotta find someone else to meet up with for lunch. You have a habit of ruining my appetite."

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**A/N**: I think I may have cheated my story out of the Malfoy scene. I had meant it to be longer, but then I figured I'd save more for later. In the end I just wanted it to be short and sweet. Hope it was adequate, and don't worry, they'll be a whole lot more as the story progresses.

-rayko.

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updated 8/25/13


	4. A Man Alone

**Come Fly With Me**

**Disclaimer**: I own seventeen years worth of life (and an amazing Lupin/Tonks birthday cookie cake) but I don't own the Harry Potter phenomenon created and owned by J. K. Rowling

**A/N**: "A Man Alone" yet another song sung by Frank Sinatra.

* * *

**A Man Alone**

**Chapter 4**

Hermione knew right from the beginning this wasn't going to be easy for her. She braced herself best she could after Ron had put her in charge of administering the anti-dementor potion. It was one thing to look upon the forlorn face of Emalia, or the suspiciously normal countenance of Terrence, but they were strangers to her before this. She had no recollection of how they were before Azkaban. Draco was a different story. She saw the change in him greatly, and it wasn't something she was prepared to deal with so easily. The vague thought of treating herself to some Pepper-Up potion entered her mind after his second session with her had ended.

By then, Hermione had set up special times for each of her patients. Emalia was to come to St. Mungo's every Monday and Thursday for the next three months for her dose of potion. Perhaps giving her the maximum time of three months, when the recommended period was only two, would seem a little overboard, but Hermione was worried about Emalia. Her depression seemed that of the suicidal kind, and the more Hermione observed her, the more she felt Emalia needed as much potion to be revived as possible. She was currently living alone with four house elves in her father's summerhouse, which she had inherited after his death. Aurors had magically destroyed the manor that she had been raised in during her time at Azkaban, due to the aura of dark magic surrounding it. The summerhouse, Hermione didn't doubt, probably had it's fair share of dark magic surrounding it too however, and she was slightly alarmed at the thought of Emalia living there on her own, trying to recover and enroll herself back into the wizarding community.

Hermione wasn't sure why, but Terrence seemed to worry her almost as much. He didn't seem the suicidal or depressed type, and yet she couldn't shake off her suspicions that he wasn't as fine as he seemed to be. She didn't think he was acting a part or anything, the opposite really, she thought he genuinely believed he was happy, but that was just a sign of severe self-denial. The question that worried Hermione, as she saw him Wednesdays and Fridays every week, was when would reality sink in, and when it did, would he crack? All he seemed to do was smile and chat conversationally with her, as if he hadn't a care in the world, except for the fact that St. Mungo's denied him to travel abroad and insisted he come to the hospital twice a week for the next two months to take his potion.

"I'm sorry Terrence, but it's policy." Hermione explained in a professional but pleasant voice, "We need to know that our patients are taking their potions regularly, and the only way to really insure that is to oversee your participation ourselves."

Draco came on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He may not have said much at first, but she could tell he wasn't too excited at first about this arrangement. He carried the air of someone who wanted to be left alone, invisible from society. The change in him was shockingly immense. He seemed to be a man all alone, and she couldn't help but wonder what had happened to all his Slytherin friends—the one's who weren't dead or doing time in Azkaban, that is. He never smiled, never made friendly conversation like Terrence, or said random statements like Emalia. He didn't talk unless she addressed him first, which unnerved her more than anything. Was he really dead inside? Was all this potion business just a waste of time? Was it too late to reach him?

One night about three weeks after the sessions had begun, Hermione and Luna were sitting in the living room watching a black and white film, which was Luna's preferred choice for the muggle invention, and this movie had Cary Grant in it. They were waiting for Neville, or rather, Luna was.

Hermione sighed at the thought, taking her eyes from the television and looking at the clock. Neville was two minutes late, but Luna didn't seem to notice. How jealous she felt about that too. Keeve was supposed to have returned from Blackpool over three weeks ago, but he had called and told her that "something in the family had come up" and that he'd have to be staying there a little longer until things were managed. Sure, she had been a little annoyed at his vagueness but she didn't push. She knew Keeve was very personal and private about things sometimes and he had secrets he liked keeping. She was used to it by now.

It didn't matter much tonight she decided, as the doorbell went off and Luna jumped off the couch to answer it. Hermione had engagements after all; she was off to Ginny's house for supper.

Hermione rang the doorbell of the large—by London standards—house and was greeted by her just barely six-month pregnant friend.

"Hermione! I told you to floo! What's with this nonsense of showing up at the door like a stranger when you're as good as family!"

She was tugged into the house and embraced strongly by the expecting Ginny. Hermione wondered if the hormones were coming on a bit strong tonight, if the excited eagerness of Ginny's tone was any indication, but she smiled anyway and said nothing of it.

"Hello Gin, I'm not late am I? It took a while for Luna and Neville to actually set out for their date, and you know how forgetful she can be about magically sealing the place up when she's with him."

Ginny waved her hand in dismissal. "You're not late, supper's about to be served, though Ron has miraculously managed to get here before you, so maybe you are late after all."

"Oh, our friend the minister's here is he?"

"In the dining room with Harry. Come on." Ginny pulled the light summer coat off Hermione, and hung it up in the closet.

After finding herself seated at the dining room table next to Harry and across from Ron, she waited as Ginny sat down and flicked her wand, causing all the food in the kitchen to now appear on the table.

"Well everyone, dig in."

And dig in they did. Well, the Weasley offspring anyway. Between the pregnant woman and the boisterous appetite of Ron, Harry and Hermione looked at each other in awe of them.

"She's been like this ever since she hit six months last week." Harry murmured to Hermione.

"I know. I have lunch with her almost daily, remember?" Hermione mumbled back, seemingly more impressed but not at all surprised at the man sitting across from her packing it away as well.

"He's a Weasley male, remember?" She heard Harry whisper to her before he set about eating his fare.

Smiling at the notion, she helped herself to the meal before her. It was good to see Harry again; it had been at least a month since she had seen him. His career as Seeker for Puddlemere United kept him busy, and traveling quite a bit. Still, being a professional Qudditch player was something he enjoyed doing far too much to think of retiring (though Ron insisted he should be playing for the Chudley Cannons instead). With his wife pregnant however, Harry was making sure he got back home after every game if he was far away, either by portkey, floo or apparation. It helped that the season was almost over and they'd be starting to focus more on practice soon, and less on playing other teams in other parts of Europe.

After dinner the group of mates chatted for a bit longer in the den until Ginny showed heavy signs of tiredness and could stay awake no longer. Ron and Hermione left the happy couple then, and went back to their homes having thoroughly enjoyed the evening and promising to come again for dinner soon.

oOo

Draco Malfoy came a little early for his appointment that Saturday afternoon, bewildering Hermione quite a bit. He walked through the door and silently sat himself down by the hospital bed.

Turning to look at him, Hermione wasn't fooled for a second. Sure he hadn't said anything, like usual, but by the look on his face, she could see this was anything but usual. Hermione blinked and looked away, reminding herself not to stare at him.

Was there really a look on his face though, she pondered, picking up her notepad and jotting some notes down about her third patient. It had been so long since she had seen any expression on his face. She had grown so accustom to its blankness. But he sat there looking…almost sad, she could say. Sad about what exactly, she wondered. Sure, there was a lot for him to be sad about, but had he finally realized it? Was he coming back alive?

"So…Draco," by now she was able to say his name without stuttering it. "Ready for your dose of potion today?"

He nodded, looking at her expectantly. Another emotion? Could she categorize it as such? She jotted another note down and then set about getting him a vile of potion out of her cupboard, which had been enchanted to keep a cool temperature.

Keeping his eyes on her, as he always did, he accepted the potion, throwing his head back and taking it all in as if it were a large shot of whiskey. Only it tasted about ten times worse, Hermione wagered, sitting herself down on a desk stool. She was impressed that he wasn't gagging as a result.

"Alright, well, as usual I'm going to have to ask you how are you coping with coming back into wizarding society. How are you feeling lately? Is the potion helping you?"

Draco observed her a moment before opening his mouth. "I'm coping all right Granger. The potion must be helping, otherwise you wouldn't be administering it to me."

Hermione tried to not blush or look uncomfortable by his response. "Well yes, we know it'll work but I am supposed to ask you if you personally are feeling the effects."

He shrugged, but she wasn't sure if it was because he didn't know or because he didn't care. His face has gone blank again, Hermione noticed with regret. Had she lost some sort of opportunity a few minutes ago?

"Well if that's all you can tell me, I'll see you next Wednesday then Mr. Malfoy." She stood up from her seat, dismissing him.

She turned to gather her notes from the desk next to her but was vaguely aware from the corner of her eye that he was reluctantly standing up as if…he doesn't want to leave?

"Hermione…?"

Frozen where she stood, she willed herself to turn and face him. Had he just said her name, her first name, and in that imploring tone, as if he was pleading for her to listen?

"Draco…what's wrong?" Her voice was barely above a whisper as she finally faced him.

He stood deathly still in the same spot from where he had risen. He hadn't even made a move to leave the room, she mentally noted. The miserable expression she saw flicker on his face ten minutes ago was back again. He opened his mouth and the words that came out were the saddest she had ever heard uttered in her lifetime.

"I'm lonely."

* * *

**A/N**: a cliffie for my readers. Now, here's a question I have concerning werewolves. When's it's a full moon in England, say, well then in, China, it's not a full moon, its like half or new moon or something. So, my question is this, couldn't a werewolf apparate into another part of the world once a month when in his/her country it's a full moon, that way s/he never has to transform? Just a thought.

-rayko.

* * *

updated 8/25/13


	5. Fly me to the Moon

**Come Fly With Me**

**A/N: **"Fly me to the Moon". Yep, you know it. Sinatra. And many others.

* * *

**Fly me to the Moon**

**_Chapter 5_**

At a loss for words, Hermione could only stare blankly at him. Had he…? Yes, yes he had. And even if she could find her voice, what could she say to that? What were the appropriate, the right words to…to comfort him with? Was he looking to be comforted, is that why he had said it? Hermione couldn't help but doubt that explanation. The words _Malfoy_ and _comfort_ didn't belong in the same sentence, after all.

Draco hadn't even registered the words he said until a moment later. He remembered standing up and getting ready to leave, and then, it just sort of slipped out, in a desperate sort of need. He hadn't meant to say anything, but then, he wasn't sure what he had intended, coming early to this appointment in the first place.

"Granger," He sighed, trying to figure out what he wanted to say. "I'm…I'm stuck at home, alright? I'm alone at the manor, I have nothing to do, no job, no family left. Nothing at all."

Hermione felt her mouth unhinging and threatening to hang open, but she kept her jaw tight and managed to nod her head somehow.

"I need something to do, somewhere to be…" He trailed off, his eyes watching her expression and dreadfully wondering if Azkaban had in fact made him mental. "Not that I would expect sympathy from a mudbl—"

"Malfoy!" Hermione had somehow found her voice, apparently from his intended insult. "It's a new world you've been released into, so you better get rid of your prejudiced ideas about muggles and superiority if you want me to help you."

He regarded her quizzically. "Help me? How?"

This was an improvement, and her hands itched to open her notebook and jot down his progress. Instead she looked him squarely in the eyes and said, "I'll help you find a job if you want something to occupy your time with. I've got connections with the ministry that could—"

"That could what?" He cut her off darkly, his eyes clouding over. "Offer me a position as an auror? With my criminal record?"

"Your record has been cleared, but I was just going to say they could offer you a decent job." She frowned at his sudden mood change. "But wait, do you want to be an auror?"

He shrugged, his face turning back to its familiar emptiness. "If Neville Longbottom can be an auror, then just about anyone can get in."

Hermione wasn't sure if she should be pleased at the hint of scorn he put into his words, or upset by their attack on Neville. Showing emotion was good, but he seemed only to be revealing negative feelings.

"Draco, that's not fair. Neville is very talented and he helped a great deal in the war."

"I remember him at Hogwarts, I remember he didn't even qualify for NEWT potions in sixth year, so how did he meet the qualifications for an auror?"

"Exceptions were made," Hermione sighed, wondering why she felt the need to justify things to Draco. "He did assist Harry in the war after all, and fought a man's battle just barely seventeen back then."

"Oh, and what about Potter? What's he doing these days? I suppose he's been made a god after winning the war. They must have golden statues of him placed everywhere."

Hermione smiled. He was almost turning conversational, though it was laced with contempt. Perhaps three weeks of potions was starting to help him after all. She told him of Harry, ignoring his slight disdain and trying to help him get over his past bigotry views. The fact that he was willing to listen to a muggle-born told her that perhaps he was already shedding old prejudices. She went on to tell him of more things that had changed in the wizard society since he had been locked up. He may have been out of Azkaban for almost a month, but it looked as though he still wasn't acquainted with how much the world around him had altered in the past five years.

Draco left the hospital half an hour later, his usual state of numbness seeming to have thawed somewhat. Perhaps having actual contact with a fellow human after all those years wasn't such a bad thing, even if the human was a mud—a muggleborn witch.

Right, it looked like Granger was right. It was a new world he had stepped into as a free man, and it was time he shook his father's teachings out of him. After all, he had abandoned his father in his loyalty to Voldemort at seventeen, and stayed purely for his mother's sake. If she hadn't been there, he would have run away from it all, and gone into hiding, at the beginning of the war. He had loved his father, but he couldn't follow in the man's footsteps. He couldn't become a killer. But why did it seem harder to drop his father's old prejudices rather than the man himself? Maybe because since birth Draco had been fed Lucius' beliefs and they were all he knew until Hogwarts. Maybe because he had always used them as a source of comfort. They made him feel better, stronger, worth more than the others. That used to be important to him somehow, but after five years at Azkaban he was having a hard time remembering why. Pulling back the sleeve of his shirt and peering down at the faded dark mark branded on his arm, he knew what he had to do.

He had gotten off his father's path of darkness years ago, and it was time he got rid of Lucius' intolerance as well.

And perhaps trying to remain invisible in society wasn't the best plan he had come up with. Well, if Granger could get him a job, he wasn't about to stop her. Sitting in a lonely mansion without even house elves to order around would tempt anyone to seek some sort of help, he ruled. He was not in fault for admitting what he had to her. He had to do it, otherwise he would have probably been driven to live out his life as a hermit, or even taken his life. Neither one seemed palatable to him, though not three weeks ago that was exactly what he had had in mind. Hmmm…perhaps the potion was working after all.

Hermione had forgotten all about recording his progress into her reference notes. Had she just spent the past half hour describing to Draco Malfoy how the wizarding world had changed? Was that really possible? Had he actually confessed to being lonely? Lonely with nothing to do and no one to talk to? Sitting herself down on a patient stool, she took a moment to collect her thoughts, wondering the likelihood of what had just happened.

oOo

She was outside his office door just before lunch.

"Come in." She heard him say through the thick slab of oak wood, after knocking.

Walking into his office she saw him smiling from behind his desk. "Hello 'Mione, my secretary told me you'd be coming _after_ lunch."

"She must have gotten the times mixed up, I told her before." Hermione brushed the statement off, continuing, "Anyway Ron, I need a favour."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's not like you. But I owe you about a million of them, so…what do you need?"

"Well" She let the word drag out, preparing herself. "It's actually for someone else, but it'll also be a help to me if you can help him."

Ron blinked. "Blimey, asking a favour for someone else _really_ isn't like you. What's this all about then?"

"Draco Malfoy." She answered bluntly. It was best to get the whole truth out at once. "He's got nothing to do and he's all alone, and I think a job would be a good thing to keep him occupied with. Plus it will give him a sense of purpose, help him get connected back with our society."

Hermione knew her reasoning was solid and something Ron wouldn't be able to disagree with. She watched in relief as he nodded his head.

"Yes, a job probably would help him out…but what do you want me to do about it?"

And here was the hard part.

"Well, I was wondering if the ministry could offer him a job."

"'Moine, you know we can't just _give_ him a job. The Ministry isn't an easy place to get into." Like he would know, Hermione thought, as he continued, "he'd need to meet requirements to whatever department he'd want to get into. What were you thinking of having him do, anyway?

Hermione knew she shouldn't say anything, seeing how Ron seemed totally against the idea, but the words sneaked out before she gave it much thought. "I think he wants to get into auror training."

"Auror training!" Ron spat out, rising from his desk in disbelief.

"Well, it would make sense seeing as he wants to be an auror, at least, I think he does."

"Excuse me? Did you just ask me to offer Draco a position as an auror? To enroll him in auror training? Hermione, you might as well ask me to fly you to the moon! I'm more likely to do that then make him an auror!"

"Alright Ron, you don't have to be obnoxious about it. I understand; it's too early for that. Maybe given some time though?"

" I will never allow that, that—"

"Innocent man?"

"Right, that innocent man to be an auror! And that's final."

Hermione wondered if maybe being Minister of Magic had slightly gotten to his head, but said nothing of it. Instead she nodded her head curtly and said, "alright, no auror training then, but don't you have any job openings?"

"Nothing that he would qualify for." Ron shook his head, sitting back down and putting some papers into his desk drawer. "Look 'Moine, I would help if situation was different but…well, why don't you offer him a job at the hospital? I mean, you are the head of the healing potions at St. Mungos, you can hire people for your department."

Hermione didn't think working in a wizard hospital was something Draco would want to do, and besides, "Ron you know I can't hire him as a healer or anything, he's not qualified for that either."

Ron shook his head, "not as a healer. Hire him as your assistant or something. Don't the other heads at St. Mungo's have assistants?"

Hermione couldn't argue that fact. Most of the heads did in fact have personal assistants, but then, Hermione wasn't one to have someone doing portions of her work for her. She liked to take charge and manage her things on her own. "I'm not sure if he'd be willing…"

"Well bugger him if he doesn't want the job. He just got out of jail, what does he expect, job offerings owled to his manor day and night? Really he should be grateful you're doing this for h—"

"Alright, I'll talk to him about it. But really Ron, please do me the favour and at least look into it. If there's anything at the ministry he could do, I think it might be better."

Ron smirked, standing up from his desk one last time. "Well it's my lunch break now, so I'm afraid we'll have to cut this short, though, if I didn't know any better I'd think you were only pushing him on me because you don't want to be stuck with the sod yourself."

"Ron-!" She began to protest, as he walked to the door and held it open for her.

"No no, 'Moine, I quite understand. Who would want to work along side the pale-faced ferret? Anyway, good luck with that."

oOo

"So then he says, _'Who would want to work with that pale-faced ferret'_ and he practically kicks me out of his office so he can go for lunch."

"That freckled daft brother of mine! I'm going to have to teach him some manners." Ginny scowled, biting into her freshly baked bistro pizza.

"So it looks like I'm really going to have to offer him a job as my assistant or something. Either that, or let him rot at home."

"Yes, and wouldn't that be a shame? Let the rich man die in his rich manor with no human companionship to save him."

"Ginny, come on—"

"What? I'm sorry Hermione, I know you said he's different but…I just can't shake off my opinion of him. Hogwarts is still fresh in my memory, and so is his menacing look."

"If you saw his face now, you'd see there's nothing menacing about it."

"But he's probably still going to be a tosser, you know that right? Once he's cured of his Azkaban depression or whatever it is, he'll be back to his hateful self."

"You say that so matter-of-factly, but I don't know. Maybe he has changed for the better. Anyway, if I get him a job at the hospital maybe I can make sure he's changed."

Ginny smiled, putting her slice down. "Hermione, didn't your mother ever teach you that you can't change a man, and it does you no good to try?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean Gin, it's not like that. Anyway, I'm seeing him on Wednesday, so from now until then I gotta figure out just what he can do as my assistant. Honestly, I'm so used to doing everything myself this is going to be a real adjustment for me."

Ginny gave her a long good look before saying, "seriously 'Moine, why are you so compassionate?"

Hermione smiled and shrugged, though she knew the answer.

Because he needed her.

oOo

Draco looked sceptical at her words.

"You know, I don't really need a job, I'm still rich."

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head. "Look, you said you were bored out of your skull doing nothing, so take it or leave it."

She regretted her reference to the word "skull" the moment she saw him cringe and his face turn a degree paler.

Blushing, she apologized, adding, "I'm only trying to help you, but if you're going to be difficult…"

Nodding, he said in a firm voice that surprised her, "I'll take the job, but I won't keep it."

And as he made his way out of the sterilized room, he barely caught her words.

"Well I never said you had to. Geez, and you could at least say thanks!"

* * *

updated 8/25/13


	6. I've Got You Under my Skin

**Come Fly With Me**

**A/N: **"_I've got you under my skin_" is sung by Sinatra and many others alike.

* * *

** I've Got You Under My Skin**

**Chapter 6**

"So…where's the book?"

"What book?"

"You know, your signature object."

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes and instead closed them, telling herself that when she opened them back up he'd still be there.

Draco had been working as her assistant at St. Mungo's for barely a week, and already she had fought the impulse to strangle him, beat him with her notebook, vanish him away with her wand, and turn him back into Azkaban. Maybe when all this was over she could sue him for mental abuse, she wagered. Her mouth turned up into a slight grin as she opened her eyes back up. Damn, he was still there.

"Well?" He pressed.

"Well what?"

"Come on Granger, you didn't think I'd be clueless forever. I was bound to notice eventually. Where's the book that should be in your hands?"

Hermione shook her head at his silly question. She supposed this was an improvement. When he first started working for her he barely said anything unless she spoke first. Now that he was seeking conversation, as absurd as it was, she knew she ought to be encouraging him.

"And what sort of book should I be carrying around exactly?" She almost felt like a psychologist while asking him.

Draco shrugged. "Hogwarts; a History? Or maybe something on house elves. I remember you had a thing for house elves."

"I was simply concerned about their welfare, Mr. Malfoy," She cursed as she felt her cheeks tinge pink. "And it might interest you to know that I'm no longer the teenage school girl you remember."

"So you mean you're not a know-it-all anymore then?"

"I resent that. I do in fact still _know-it-all_ or most of whatever it is anyway, but no, I don't go around making this common knowledge to feel good about myself or anything."

"So you're smart, but you don't flaunt it anymore?"

Hermione nodded. "In a nut shell. I've matured."

"Alright, so…where's the book?"

She sighed in defeat. "I have one in my purse, happy?"

He shrugged. "But how can you fit a book in your purse?"

"It's just a small thing, for light reading."

"Oh, I'm sure it is." He nodded with a deadpan face.

"You git."

Moments later they got up from the squeaky plastic seats in St. Mungo's cafeteria, where they had been taking a pre-lunch break. A faint smile played about Draco's face and Hermione was slightly shocked to see it there for the first time, as she realized that whole conversation was just him teasing her. He really had a knack for getting under her skin. She was bombarded with mixed feelings though; irritation, embarrassment, amusement, and sheer happiness that the potion really was working. Draco was becoming more human with every day.

But it frightened her also, when comparing him with her two other patients, Terrence and Emalia.

Terrence seemed to be getting more anxious to travel. She supposed after a month of treatment a man who didn't think he needed any might get annoyed that he was still being held back, but Terrence was becoming less chatty, and more in a hurry for their sessions to be done. He asked her if his two months could be shortened by any chance and when she told him they could not, he seemed quite put out by the matter.

"Very well, I'll finish this month also, but after that I think I'm selling my house and taking a permanent vacation somewhere."

"That sounds nice." Hermione remarked lightly, handing him his vile of potion.

Emalia reminded Hermione of the steady line of an electrocardiogram, when a person's heart suddenly stops beating. She was neither getting worse nor getting better, and that was eeriness itself. Her skin was as pale and waxy as ever, which told Hermione that she must not step outside her house, besides for these potion sessions. That meant Emalia was cooped up alone in her father's summer home, filled with dark arts. No wonder the potion wasn't enough help.

"Ema, if you don't have anything to do after this, maybe you'd like to go for some lunch with me? My good friend Ginny will be there and she's quite a lovely person, I'm sure you'd like her." Hermione had offered the day before.

Emalia stared down at her toes and said quietly. "Thank you but, I haven't bothered eating lunch for sometime now. I…I can't stomach food during the day."

"Oh?" Hermione said gently. "Well, perhaps you could order a drink for now, and I could see about getting you some potion that might help you regain a balanced diet."

"No…not today, but…thank you." And for the first time Emalia met Hermione's gaze, exposing beautiful but clouded greenish-blue eyes.

Hermione made a mental note to breach the topic of getting a job with Ema on her next visit. It could do her as good as it seemed to do Draco. Compared with him, Emalia was far behind the road to recovery, and Terrence just seemed to be getting less "normal". But then, perhaps that meant he was breaking from the severe case of denial Hermione deduced he had. And if he was, she wasn't going to stop him.

Draco fell into step behind Hermione and followed her dutifully back to her office area. He had not like the prospect of being her lackey, yes, that was what he was whether she'd admit it or not; being someone's assistant was the same as being their servant as far as he was concerned. But it was either this or going crazy imprisoned within the manor walls, so he chose this hell over the other. At least he got to bug her. That was a little rewarding for him.

As the week went on, he realized maybe being her lackey wasn't going to be hell after all. He grudgingly admitted to himself at first that it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Sure, he could tell it annoyed Hermione that she had to divide her work up so he would have something to do, but she seemed to have grown accustomed to it fast enough, and he couldn't deny he was enjoying doing something with his time for once. The feeling of having a purpose, of doing a job, it gratified him more than he ever realized it could.

It was a pain to acknowledge it at first, but he also felt that she was helping him with his Lucius' indoctrinate problem. He had caught himself from calling her a mudblood at least four times on the first day of his job, twice the next day, but since then he had managed to associate her with the name Granger instead. He had long gotten over the disgust he used to feel when being around her, even before he came out of Azkaban and she started giving him anti-dementor potion. He had felt like the dirty one then, after five years in a rotting cell. Since his release from Azkaban to now, he had gone from seeing her as some mudblood witch, to an actual human like him, and then eventually to just Hermione, though he was careful that he only called her "Granger".

They reached her office and Draco went to sit down at the desk she had gotten him in her office. He was going over some paperwork for her while she went to the stockroom next door to check the inventory of potions.

She came back half an hour later and announced she'd be going off to lunch. Draco nodded and she left. Since he started working for her, he'd been spending his lunches working instead of eating. At Azkaban they didn't give a midday meal, only one at daybreak and one at dusk. He wondered where she went to lunch every day, not the hospital cafeteria, he knew that much. Probably with one of her friends, he figured, burying himself back into the paperwork and trying to dull out the sudden ache he felt knowing he had no friends to go meet up and socialize with for lunch.

oOo

"So he's finally back, is he?" Ginny leaned against the bistro's patio chair, rubbing her side tenderly.

"Uh-huh, he came back this morning and we're going out for dinner tonight." Hermione ripped off a piece of her banana muffin and nibbled on it.

"Hermione," Ginny shook her head, "you gotta find out why he's been in Blackpool for a whole month longer than he said he would."

"I told you Gin, he said some family troubles came up."

"For a whole month?"

Hermione took a moment to think up a possibly. "Maybe someone died in the family and it was a major issue. I don't know, I'll ask him tonight and tell you about it on Monday, okay?"

"Whatever," Ginny winced, adding, "my back is so sore, this baby is getting a little too big too early I think."

"Less then three months left, right? That's what, twelve weeks? You should be taking a pregnancy leave soon."

"You sound just like Harry." Ginny groaned, "but don't change the subject. You're gonna make me wait the whole weekend to find out Keeve's super-duper excuse? I don't think so 'Mione, you're calling me tonight or tomorrow morning."

Hermione sighed. "If it's anything important, I'll call you, okay?"

oOo

"Did I mention you look beautiful tonight?"

"Yes, five times already." Hermione laughed with twinkling eyes.

"Oh, right, well…this foods quite good, don't you think?"

"Yes, well, it is our favourite restaurant after all." She smiled, finding his flustered state endearing.

Keeve hadn't been like this since they had first started going out, and it was a refreshing change. He was nervous about something she could tell, just like he had been when he first asked her out. She wondered if maybe tonight was the night he might ask her something else. Ginny had told her not long ago that she was sure it would happen soon. Hermione wondered what life with Keeve would be like. Was she really ready for it? Hmm…perhaps they could have a long engagement just to make sure it was the right thing.

"Hermione?"

"Huh?" She blinked.

"Sorry, did I disrupt your thinking? You looked like something was on your mind."

Hermione shook her head vaguely. "It was nothing."

"Well…" He began, in what sounded like a downfall sigh. "Hermione, I have something to say."

"Yes…?"

"It's about why I've been away at Blackpool for longer than expected."

"Oh." She tried to hide her disappointed. Then again, she was interested in that explanation as well.

"You see, it has to do with my neighbours, or rather, my parents' neighbours."

He was babbling, but she was patient. "Alright."

"Or rather, their daughter."

"Their daughter?"

"Yeah, you see, she was…my high school ex-girlfriend."

Hermione felt the pit of her stomach drop like a Quidditch Bludger ball. Wordlessly, she assented for him to go on.

"And well…her parents and my parents are very close, family friends practically, and they had this party you see, and—look Hermione, I'm sorry but—"

"You cheated on me." It was more of a statement than a question.

He nodded sadly. "At first it was just an accident, you know, too much punch at the party and one thing lead to another—"

"And now?"

"I started seeing her. Hermione, believe me, I never meant to hurt you, but after things got started it was kind of hard to end then. I told her that before I could officially start dating her I had to break things off with you, like any gentleman would do."

"Gentleman?" Hermione raised her eyebrow in complete disbelief.

Not only had she not been proposed to, but her boyfriend was breaking up with her.

"I'm really, truly, excruciatingly sorry Hermi—"

"You know what Keeve, I'm not." And with that she stood up from the table, flung her purse over her shoulder and walked out of that restaurant defiantly.

* * *

**A/N**: you show him girl!

-rayko.

* * *

updated 8/25/13


	7. Moon River

**Come Fly With Me**

**A/N**: My favourite "Moon River" rendition was done by Louis Armstrong, his deep smoky voice just seems perfect for it.

* * *

**Moon River**

**Chapter 7**

"Hermione, more salad?"

It took her a moment to register that someone was speaking to her.

"Pardon?" She asked, looking up from her plate.

"I asked if you'd like some more salad." Harry pointed with his chin, indicating the salad bowl in his hands.

"Oh, no thank you." She said politely, poking at a piece of tender meat with her fork.

"Ginny?" Harry turned to his wife.

"No Harry." She spoke absentmindedly, waving her hand in the air to dismiss him as she watched every movement Hermione made.

Hermione sighed and plopped her last piece of meat into her mouth. She wasn't completely oblivious; she could feel Ginny's eyes burning into her.

Harry looked back and forth at the two girls sitting on either side of him and shrugged. Whatever was happening, Ginny would have to tell him about it later in private.

Hermione took a sip of her wine and tried her best to plaster a smile on her face. At the moment, she had nothing to feel happy about. For the past week she had been dodging Ginny's questions, denying anything had happened and trying to pass off her break up as "we just had dinner; he wouldn't tell me about the 'family troubles' back home."

Ginny had known Hermione long enough to recognize when she was lying, and after a week of probing, Ginny had gotten so desperate she told Hermione that she had better come over to dinner and explain the whole thing over a nice cup of tea, or else Ginny would call Keeve himself and have the whole story out for the Daily Prophet by the Saturday post.

It wasn't that Hermione was suffering from denial or depression over the break up. She had gone home that Friday evening the week before and had a good proper cry. She woke up the next day, went to work, came home, and ate whatever junk food she could find in the house while watching old black and white films with Luna. By Wednesday, she had gotten over it. Merlin, was she happy she never slept with him.

But that was the very reason she didn't want to tell Ginny about it. She could just hear her friend say, "Well, if you had _just_ bonked him, he wouldn't have left. I mean, his ex-girlfriend probably did the job for you, you know, banged him good."

Hermione dreaded to hear that. A vague thought passed through her head as she finished up the remaining bits of food on her plate. Were all men like that? Would they all expect the same thing, not willing to wait?

Ron had been pretty good about it, back when she had dated him. But then, they hadn't lasted, so then again, maybe not.

"Ginny come on," Harry's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "You'll be seven months gone before you know it. Just another week practically."

"I told you already, I'm not going on maternity leave until I've got a month to go, Harry. It's not like they're letting me go on missions anymore as it is. I'm just getting paperwork done, but I won't leave until I have to."

"But Gin—"

"Besides, by staying on longer, I'm giving Angelina more time with her baby before coming back. Little Fred is only eleven months old, after all."

"Was it really almost a year ago that he was born?" Harry smiled to himself at the happy memory. "Seems like time went fast, I can still remember the look on George's face, I've never seen him look so proud."

"After the war…well, it was good my brother had a boy he could name after…Fred," Ginny could feel her eyes flooding. Stupid hormones. "That's another reason why I won't leave yet. They'll be calling her back the moment I leave and with George busy running his shop, they'll have to hire a nanny for their daughter before she's even one!"

"What about your parents?" Hermione suggested, opting to join in the conversation at last.

Ginny switched her glare from her husband to her friend. "Yes, I suppose mum and dad will probably want to look after him, but enough about this. You 'Moine, and I, have something we need to discuss, don't we?"

Hermione bit her lip and wished she kept quiet. Regardless of what she wanted though, soon she found herself following Ginny into the kitchen after they magically cleared the dining room table, and Harry went off to the den to give them their privacy. Hermione couldn't help but wish he hadn't left however.

"Sit." The very pregnant woman commanded.

Hermione diligently sat down.

"Now…I know you've been hiding the truth Hermione, I know you." Ginny filled the kettle with water and plugged it into the wall. Taking the table chair next to Hermione she added, "I'd conjure up some tea instead but I find the muggle made stuff always tastes better. Besides, the kettle was a wedding gift from that batty old squib lady who used to live near Harry, so I like to put it into good use now and then."

Hermione nodded and opened her mouth to speak.

Ginny cut her off however, with, "but I digress. Now, tell me what happened with Keeve. You didn't call me last weekend, you showed up late to lunch on Monday as if you wanted to avoid me, and every time I ask you about it you just lie and change the subject. So spill, or believe me, I will ask him instead."

"Okay, okay, but…just don't make the comments I know you're going to make." Hermione sighed.

Ginny's eyebrows shot up. "The comments you know I'll make? What are those?"

"You know," her friend hesitated to answer, "that if I had just slept with him, it wouldn't have happened or something."

"I'm not going to say that, so go on and tell me everything."

Hermione took a moment to think it through, and then told Ginny everything.

"Well!" Ginny said, just as the kettle started to whistle.

She left Hermione for a moment to make the tea, and soon came back, handing her friend a mug.

"Well," she went on, "it is true, if you _had_ shagged him he probably wouldn't have been so desperate to get on with someone else."

"Gin!" Hermione protested.

"But," Ginny when on further, "I'm glad you didn't, because he's a wanker and he doesn't deserve you 'Moine."

Hermione smiled weakly, and for the first time in the past week she felt as though she could genuinely feel good about at the situation. "Yeah, you're right."

oOo

It was Sunday morning and Hermione was sitting in the hospital room attached to her office, getting ready for her appointment with Terrence in twenty minutes. The vague thought that sooner or later he was going to skip town and go on that vacation they told him he wasn't allowed to go on crossed her mind, but she doubted him to be someone to break the conditions set for him.

The sound of a knock on the door woke her up from her thoughts.

"Uh, Granger?"

"Yes Draco?"

He looked reluctant to talk, as if he wasn't sure what to say. "You…you better come to the office. There's a report on the wireless I think you should hear."

Following him back into her office, he motioned to the box and she listened carefully.

"The reports of the floating body came early this morning after a couple of children discovered the remains drifting down the river. Mediwizards determined death just after midnight, the moon the only witness—"

Hermione felt her spine go cold. She had a feeling that—but no—it didn't mean it was Emalia! It could be anyone, and it probably was someone she didn't know in fact.

"Why did you think I should hear this?" Hermione asked in a quiet voice, turning to Draco.

As usual his grey eyes were dark and murky, and she could not make out what he was thinking. After a moment's pause, he answered.

"Before I called you in, they had said that…that the ministry had identified the body."

The hairs rose on her arms and before he even finished telling her, she thought she knew, Oh Merlin, it's Ema, it's—

"The body was identified as Terrence Kobstone, and after extracting the body's dormant memories, the mediwizards pronounced the death as successful suicide."

Hermione walked out of her office several moments later and immediately stumbled back after bumping into someone. Straightening herself up, she was met with three pairs of warm, dancing eyes.

"Hiya Hermione! Sorry about that, I didn't see you walking out." A beautiful black woman smiled and stepped forward to give her a slight hug, "It's good to see you though."

"You too Angelina." Hermione smiled, hugging her back.

"And you as well George." She waved to the tall freckly man holding a little boy in his arms.

"Hullo Hermione, you look like quite the professional." George winked.

"I do try." She nodded, and suddenly the thoughts of her dead patient rushed back to her head. To think, the Weasleys had even been able to make her forget for one moment.

"So…how's the shop these days?" She continued on, perhaps a little less cheerfully.

George smiled. "Cracking. We've got a new line out on glow-in-the-dark marshmellows that have been flying off the shelves."

"And I take it that these things turn you glow-in-the-dark when consumed?"

"Spot on," George laughed, "for precisely three hours."

Baby Fred, excited by his father's laugh, clapped his hands and giggled along.

Hermione's glance settled on the baby and she offered him her fingers, which he immediately grasped with unknown strength all babies seem to have.

"He seems healthy."

"That's what we're hoping for. We're here for his check-up." Angelina explained. "Well, we don't want to be late for our appointment, but give us a bell, we'd love to have you over."

Smiling at Fred, Hermione nodded. "Yes, that would be wonderful."

And as the family walked away Hermione realized that in existence, there was both life and death, and babies where being born everyday while people of all ages were dying. If Terrence had chosen to end his life before his time, she was truly sad, but it was a choice he had made. And though she wished she could have stopped him, she realized she hadn't done anything to in fact do so. She still had two patients left, and this time she wasn't going to mess up. This time she was going to keep them alive, and in staying alive, she was going to make sure they actually were alive to the fullest; that they actually lived.

* * *

updated 8/25/13


	8. Something Stupid

**Come Fly With Me **

**A/N: **I almost named this chapter "Mr. Sandman" by The Supremes, for reasons you'll find obvious later. Anyway, instead I decided on…

Probably one of my most favourite songs on the planet, Sinatra did sing "_Something Stupid_" in a duet with his daughter Nancy, but the Robbie Williams/Nicole Kidman version is even better!

* * *

**Something Stupid**

**Chapter 8**

"'Moine, I've got a favour to ask."

"Oh, what is it?"

Ginny took a moment to wolf down her cream cheese bagel before continuing.

"You know, Gin, you're really starting to resemble Ron in your eating."

"Funny you should mention him," Ginny wiped a couple of crumbs from her mouth with a paper napkin."That's the favour I've got to ask."

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"You know the Ministry's Gold and Silver Ball, the one Harry's taking me to because he's, you know, _The Boy Who Lived _and_ The Chosen One_? The one Ron has to attend too because he's minister?"

"Yes, that's in ten days, isn't it?"

"It is, and Ron doesn't have a date. Poor sod's been without a girlfriend for a while now. I think he's planning on going alone."

"Poor Ron. But let me guess, you want me to go with him?"

"Would you? I mean, he's too proud to come out and admit he needs a date, but I think he's probably going to come and ask you anyway."

Hermione laughed. "I'm the last resort, am I?"

"I'm afraid so. I mean, it probably hurts his ego that he has to take his friend instead of some hotshot woman."

"Alright, if he asks, I'll tell him yes. Or better yet, I'll write to him and tell him you asked me for him."

"Don't, he'll kill me! Think of the baby, 'Moine!" Ginny clutched her swelling abdomen melodramatically.

"Okay you win, for the baby's sake."

Ginny smiled and then remembered something. "Oh, and before we go back to work, here—"

She pulled out a little wrapped box from her purse. "I know tomorrow's the nineteenth and I know you were potentially gonna bunk off on lunch so I decided to give you your birthday present today, so you couldn't escape."

"Come on Gin, I'm not that bad. I would have come to lunch tomorrow, I just would have sort of wished you wouldn't remember though." Hermione chuckled, accepting the present. "And thanks."

"No problem, open it up and tell me what you think. You know, it's not everyday you turn twenty-four. Just think, a year from tomorrow you'll be twenty-five."

"Yeah, and I'll probably still be meeting up with you at this bistro for lunch, working at St. Mungo's as a healer, living in an apartment with Luna, and still single."

"Well, if you really want to find someone you got to do like that muggle song says."

"What muggle song?"

"You know, the one from that record your mum put on the last time I was over. Something about a Sandman."

"Ah yes, _Mr. Sandman, send me a dream, make him the cutest that I've ever seen_, _etc_."

"Yeah, ask that chap to send you someone."

Hermione laughed. "If it were only that simple."

"So…what are you doing tomorrow to celebrate?"

Hermione scrunched her face. "Mum's invited me over for a good old fashioned family dinner."

"Oh, well try and enjoy that." Ginny patted her hand across the table in sympathy. "But after that's over come back to my place and we'll go out for drinks with Harry."

"Ginny, you're pregnant!"

"You know what I mean. You and Harry drink, I'll have shots of orange juice and pretend it's spiked with vodka. Maybe I'll even invite Ron along, if he's not being a prat."

"Yeah, and maybe Luna too." Hermione nodded. "That is, if she's home. She's been out with Neville a lot lately. Last night she came in around three and started twirling around the apartment as if she was really batty, or maybe pissed."

"Probably pissed." Ginny assented.

"Maybe…but she looked really happy, you know, not the kind of drunk dopey happy, but like she had just had the best date of her life or something."

Ginny's grin went double size. "Maybe she had just come back from a hot steamy shag. You know, he didn't look it when he was younger, but now I think he's the sort of man who could really please a girl in bed, you know?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I try not to think about that when talking to Neville, but thanks, now that's exactly what I'll be picturing the next time he's over."

oOo

_Ring, Ring_.

"Hello?"

"Hullo there, this is Hermione Granger's office, right?"

"Yes, it is."

"Then may I speak to Hermione, please?"

"I'm afraid she's out on her lunch break. Can I take a message?"

"And who is this?"

"Draco Malfoy, her assistant."

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy, I didn't know my daughter had an assistant. Anyway, could you please tell her it's her mother calling to tell her to come over tomorrow around six."

"Mother…come over tomorrow…around six. Alright, I've got it."

"Thank you young man. My, you sound quite pleasant. Well, have a nice day and don't forget to wish my daughter happy birthday tomorrow!"

"Oh, um…right."

"Bye bye now!"

"Good bye Mrs. Granger."

Click.

Hermione walked into her office just before five the next day to find Draco Malfoy sitting at his desk going through paperwork. Sure it kept him busy, but she still kind of wished she could have gotten him a job where he would be more sociable. She had been able to help get Emalia a much more sociable job as a clerk working at Flourish & Blotts bookstore. It had been George who informed her they were hiring over dinner a week ago, when she took Angelina up on her offer. Hermione used this piece of information and acted fast in contacting Emalia and getting her to apply. She had only started a couple of days ago but Hermione was very hopeful about it.

Perhaps she would start having Draco assist her while she saw patients in the hospital room as well, just to get him out of that desk and talking to people.

"Well, you get off work early today Malfoy, because I do too. I have to get ready to go to my mum's house in an hour, so I'll be leaving now. That gives you the rest of the day off as well."

Draco looked up, nodded, and went back to his paperwork. Sighing to herself, she supposed it was better for him to stay here and work then go home to a lonely manor and spend the night doing nothing. Gathering her things, she put on her fall coat and made her way to the doorway.

"Hey, Granger…wait."

Hermione stopped at the door and looked back. "Hmmm?"

Getting up from his desk purposefully, Draco pulled something from his briefcase on the desk.

"Here." He handed her a rectangular shaped object wrapped up in silver paper.

"What's…?"

"Birthday present." He shrugged, not quite meeting her eyes.

"But how did you…?"

"You're mother mentioned something when she called yesterday."

"Malfoy…you got me something?"

"Yeah well…my money's just been burning a hole in my pocket as it is, so it's not like it's a big deal, I just brought something stupid, really—"

"Thank you!" She gasped, unwrapping the gift.

It was a very thick book, and looked like it had well over a thousand pages. Reading the title, Hermione had to do a double take. "Jane Austen?"

"Yeah, my mother used to love her, so I figured—"

"But Draco…she's a muggle writer."

"And?" By her expression he could see it wasn't a good enough explanation. "What, surprised she'd be reading it?"

"Well…yes." Shouldn't she be?

Draco ran a hand through his hair and Hermione couldn't help but appreciate the ruffled look on him. "Lucius never seemed too pleased about it, but my mother refused to give up her books. So I thought, if it's that good, then you'd probably like it too."

"You're right, I do."

"And, I wasn't sure which book of hers you'd want," he went on. "I mean I heard _Pride and Prejudice_ was her most popular but…well anyway, I just got you the her complete works, just in case."

"Thank you Draco, really, I mean it!"

Nodding, he added, "Like I said, it's not like I'm using my money for anything else as it is, so it doesn't matter."

"It matters to me." Hermione said, clutching the book to her chest.

"Well, you're—you're welcome then." He had almost stopped himself from saying it, but in the end decided it was better if he did.

Leaving St. Mungo's minutes later, Hermione came to the realization that he had to have walked into a muggle bookstore to get her book, and just the thought of that made her laugh. And smile.

* * *

**A/N:** you know, I very nearly missed out on Hermione's birthday. I was looking over chapter one and I realized Ginny says at one point "your birthday's next month" since the beginning of the story takes place around the beginning of August. So I made a timeline for the story and found that I had better put her birthday into this chapter or else I'd miss it completely. And so, September 19th passed, and Hermione turned twenty-four!

-rayko.

* * *

updated 8/25/13


	9. Strangers in the Night

**Come Fly With Me**

**A/N**: It's a Sinatra classic, and with good reason. While reading this, you could youtube the song and listen to it…it just adds to the story, I think.

* * *

**Strangers in the Night**

**Chapter 9**

"Ron, you look quite dashing this evening." Hermione beamed up at her friend, as he escorted her through the ballroom doors.

The Ministry's annual Gold and Silver Ball was in full swing by the time they were announced in. Hermione wasn't lying when calling her friend dashing either. Like most gentlemen there, Ron was dressed to impress, in stylish golden robes that gave him the look of a king.

"You 'Mione, are beautiful." Ron replied. "Though you hardly need me telling you that every five minutes. I mean, it's quite obvious, isn't it?"

Hermione was decked out in a golden strapless dress that flowed straight down to the ground. The back was low and open and the narrowness of the dress gave her the look of being quite tall and distinguished. The split running up the side of the dress added a touch of allure to the elegance. Her hair was twisted up and back into intricate curling coils around a simple bun.

"Ron." She playfully swatted him on the arm. "Come on, let's go find Harry and Ginny in this crowd."

They soon found the golden boy, donning a pair of shiny attractive golden robes, steering around his seven-month pregnant wife, who was wearing a pale silver empire waist gown, which went well with her growing tummy.

"You look amazing!" Hermione and Ginny said simultaneously to each other.

"Come on Ron, I think we should leave them to gawk at each other for the next ten minutes." Harry teased.

"Oh no you don't, mister I-saved-the-world-so-I-get-invited-to-all-these-st upid-ministry-functions, we're going to go dance now."

"But Gin, think how tiring it will be to dance with the baby. You'll keel over half way through the song."

"My legs aren't aching yet, so let's dance before they start." Ginny grabbed hold of Harry's hand. "I'll come back and talk with you 'Moine after a couple of dances. We can grab a table and have a chat about what the people here are wearing for the rest of the night."

Laughing, Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and said, "come on, let's go dance too. You are minister after all; you have to keep up appearances."

"You know, if that's the case I don't think dancing is such a good idea."

"Oh, how come?"

"Because once people see my attempt at dancing my good name will be lost for good."

"Please, I saw you at the Yule ball…oh wait, no I don't think I remember seeing you dance there at all. You were too jealous of Krum to even think of dancing, if I remember correctly."

"Shut up Hermione." Ron grumbled. "If you want to dance, we'll dance, just dodge my feet best you can."

They walked into the crowd of dancers and began their waltz.

"Okay Ron, how about I lead?" Hermione suggested, when she saw him struggling.

"Uh, good idea." He nodded.

Hermione led the waltz and they somehow managed to get through the song without any humiliating public incidences.

They danced in companionable silence for a turn, when Ron suddenly said, "Oi, Hermione, is that Draco Malfoy?"

"What?"

"Look, over there." Ron turned her around so they were both facing south as they danced.

"What are you talking about, why would Draco be here?" She looked around doubtfully, and couldn't recognize him anywhere.

"The Malfoy's might be a crap family but the name still means something to the ministry. Lucius did donate lots of money to us and they were aristocrats, so they always get invited to these functions, even if Malfoy is the last of his family around."

"I still don't see—"

"Look there, over by the pillar, leaning against it."

Hermione's eyes locked on the man standing by a column of the south walls. He had Draco's hair, the platinum straight threads, hanging loosely down his face. He had his pale skin, and she guessed if she went near enough she'd probably find the same misted grey eyes. But that man, dressed so finely in silvery-grey robes, couldn't possibly be Draco. He looked more like the Draco from Hogwarts; the snob. Not her assistant, the one who had been working for her for four weeks, who talked mildly, but still drowned himself in paperwork instead of taking the time to socialize with others at the hospital.

"That is Draco Malfoy." Ron confirmed to himself. "That potion really did a number on him, didn't it? Looks like the bloody ferret we used to know and hate."

"He still's got another week of potion and then he's done," Hermione said absentmindedly, entranced by this complete stranger who was masquerading in the present Draco's body.

"Come on Hermione, the song is done. Let's go sit down for a bit." Without waiting for her to answer, as he doubted she even heard him, he led her off the dancing floor and over to a vacant table.

Why hadn't he told her he was invited to the ball? Hadn't she just seen him a couple of hours earlier at work? Couldn't he have found a moment to mention it? Then again, she hadn't exactly told him she was going…but that was ridiculous, why should she, when she didn't even know he knew about it. He looked like he was here alone, she could have gone with him, helped him socialize so he wouldn't feel weird about it. Then again, she had already agreed to go with Ron, and besides, judging by the complete confident and relaxed aura that just seemed to be emanating off him, she doubted he needed her help mingling at this ball after all.

"Well that's just fine Mr. Malfoy, I guess Ginny was right about you." She muttered under her breath to herself.

"I'm right about what?" Ginny asked, coming up from behind and taking a seat down next to her.

"Hey." Harry said, sitting next to Ron and beginning a conversation of their own.

"Nothing." Hermione mumbled. "So…you done dancing?"

"Can you believe it, we got through two waltzes and my feet are killing me. This baby is weighing me down. And it's still over three weeks until it's even eight months."

"Well—"

"Ooh, who's that dishy bloke over there standing by the pillars? You think if I yell "sexy cupcake!" really loud he'll turn around so I can see his face?" Ginny's eyes sparkled.

"That's Draco Malfoy." Hermione didn't even have to look in his direction to know whom Ginny was talking about.

"Really?" Ginny's eyes sparkled even more. "That's Malfoy, as in the one who's your assistant? Bloody hell, forget what I said before, he's looking _much_ better then when we were in school. If I were you I would have offered him a job too."

"I didn't offer him a job because he's handsome!" Hermione protested. "I was trying to help him out, and besides, I don't think you should be talking like that with Harry sitting two seats away."

Harry, however, in boy fashion was completely oblivious to the girl's conversation as he talked with Ron.

"Are all pregnant women as hormonal as you?" Hermione joked and Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Well look, Mr. Sex-Muffin Malfoy himself is coming our way as we speak." Ginny nodded her head toward the man who was indeed approaching their table.

"What did you say?" Ron hissed to his sister, clearly appalled, seconds before Draco managed to reach his destination.

Draco Malfoy had been one of the first people to come to the Gold and Silver Ball that night. He figured it was better to get in early and hang back in the shadows of the walls rather then come late and be stared at while he was announced in. One by one, he watched the people enter, everyone with a date, with someone to accompany them, so they weren't standing all alone.

He had come so close to caving in and asking Hermione to go with him. He wasn't even going to go at first, but then the thought of spending yet another night at home, staring at the walls and drinking whatever alcohol was in the house, made him think otherwise. He knew he shouldn't go alone, it was pitiful really, but the only woman he could think of asking was Hermione. But he couldn't, he just couldn't. The last thing he wanted to do was give her the wrong impression. It was Hermione Granger after all, he couldn't get involved with someone like her, no, it wasn't happening. Still…standing alone in the ballroom watching everyone dance he couldn't help but feel the regret sink deep into his gut as he wished he had asked her to accompany him after all.

And then, she came in, on the arm of the Weasel Minister. He actually had to do a double take when first seeing her, and he was vaguely reminded of the Yule ball back at Hogwarts. Back then however, she had been bushy haired and childlike, and then transformed into a beauty for one night only. Nowadays, her hair was tamer, with neat loose curls, and she had definitely developed into a woman. Tonight though, she was simply stunning. Like some beautiful stranger, the kind you only meet in dreams, or see in a movie. That was Hermione Granger at the Gold and Silver Ball.

The next time he spotted her, she was sitting at a table talking with a redheaded woman, who looked like she was expecting a baby sooner than later.

No, he wasn't attracted to Hermione Granger; no just the thought was absurd! But tonight, as he was reminded of the balls he attended in his youth, and the confidence it used to give him in knowing how classy and dignified he was, he suddenly felt he had the boldness, no, no the right, to go and claim her for a dance, just one minuscule dance.

He felt a moment's hesitation when he realized the two girls were not alone, but that Potter and Weasley were in fact sitting behind them. Oh well, he had come this far, and the sister of Weasley had noticed him coming, so he had no choice but to go on.

"Draco," Ginny smiled "it's uh, good to see you again."

"It is?" Ron mumbled and Harry elbowed him in the gut.

Draco surveyed the four of them and took a moment to think of why he had come there again. Oh right, to dance with Granger. The awkwardness of the moment almost made him forget his objective.

"Yes…hi, uh?"

"Ginny Weasley." Ginny prompted.

"Right, Ginny, hi." He nodded, then turned his gaze to the guys, "uh, Potter, Weasley."

"Malfoy." They answered back together, slightly shocked to find he hadn't added any insults after saying their names.

"Granger," Draco turned to the exquisiteness sitting in front of his view. "Would you care for a dance?"

"Oh, uh, sure." She got up, refusing to acknowledge Ginny's winking, and the twin gaping mouths Harry and Ron now wore across their faces.

Once away from the table, Draco felt his confidence seeping back in. He knew he could dance well; he had been doing so for years and years before going to Azkaban. Taking Hermione gently into his arms, he waltzed with her into the crowd.

Hermione could immediately tell the difference between Ron and Draco. One couldn't dance to save his life, while the other one could _really_ waltz. Not only were his turns and moves smooth, but he did everything in tempo and Hermione began to feel more like she was floating, less like she was actually dancing.

"You Draco, can dance." Hermione sighed quietly, as he pulled her into another turn.

"Yes, I know." He smirked, a little of his old self shining through.

And that, out of everything from that night at the magnificent Gold and Silver Ball, had dazzled her the most.

* * *

updated 8/25/13


	10. Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

**Come Fly With Me**

**A/N: **We're breaking from the crooner boys and going with the lovely soulful tones of Doris Day. _Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps_, is a wonderfully catchy song.

This chapter turned into a bit of a monster, so read it when you have time to tackle almost 6000 words.

* * *

**Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps**

**Chapter 1o**

Hermione was sitting comfortably on her apartment couch, flipping the channels and looking for a decent movie. Next to her, Luna seemed to be fidgeting nervously. It didn't take Hermione long to say something, as she stopped at the weather channel and put the remote control aside for a moment.

"Uh Luna…is something the matter?"

"What me? No! Not a thing at all, haha."

"Well…do you want to watch another one of those old movies, or something?"

Luna shrugged. "I suppose so."

Uh-oh, Luna wasn't excited about watching a black and white movie? Something was definitely up.

"Out with it Luna, what's going on?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Luna protested, her eyes moving about the room like mad-eye's magical one.

"All right, if you say so. So anyway, what movie—"

"Fine, if you're going to keep harping on about it, I'll tell you already." Luna interrupted.

"Err…right, well go on then." Hermione had a funny feeling Luna wanted to tell her after all.

"Well, if you must know, Neville's proposed!"

"What! Really, when?"

"Two weeks ago, on the seventeenth. Remember that day I came home really early in the morning and started dancing around the apartment?"

"Is that what you were doing? I thought we were plastered and just twirling about. Wait, that was ages ago, how come it took you this long to tell me?"

Luna blushed, which was very becoming to her fair skin. "We decided to keep it a secret for a bit, until he could formally tell his grandmother and I could tell my dad. His grandma's going to be holding a little wedding shower for me and the family in a couple of weeks, but I was sort of wondering if you could help me put on a little dinner party, to celebrate our engagement, just for our friends."

"Sure, I would love to do that. We can have a everyone over for dinner here, but when do you want to have it?"

"Oh, anytime next week, really. I mean, the family shower is in two weeks, and the wedding itself is next month so—"

"Next month! Luna, your wedding is in a month?"

"Well, October just started today, so we were thinking around the middle or end of November."

"Luna, that's a very short time to plan a wedding."

Luan shrugged. "Neville and I decided we weren't going to do anything too big, just get the celebration over and done with, you know?"

Hermione laughed. "Luna, you are a one in a million kind of girl, you know that?"

oOo

"She's pregnant."

"What?"

"That's gotta be it." Ginny nodded knowingly. "Why else would they want such a quickie wedding?"

"Well, this is Luna and Neville we're talking about. They aren't exactly the most normal people we know."

"Still…a month? I mean, think about all the things that need planning. Mum helped me with my wedding, she would have disowned me if I didn't let her, and that took over eight months to plan."

"Well, like I said, Luna's different. If she wants to get married in a month, I don't think anything's gonna stop her. So, the dinner party we're having to celebrate their engagement is this coming Saturday, do you think you can make it?"

"Of course. Harry and I will be there."

"Great, well I gotta get back to work now, my lunch break is almost up."

"Right, don't want to stay away from Mr. Sex-Muffin for too long, how do we?"

Hermione would not even dignify her with a response. She simply rolled her eyes, and got up to go.

"Hey, pretend all you like 'Moine, I saw you dancing at the ball. The tension was enough to put me into labour."

"And yet here you are still carrying the baby."

"Well, fine, I didn't actually _go_ into labour, but you cannot deny the man is a sex god."

"He is my patient recovering from a five year prison stay _and_ my assistant. On those grounds alone I should deny it."

"He's no longer your patient after this week, 'Moine. Oh, bugger off miss professional." Ginny shooed her away.

Hermione promptly left. The Gold and Silver Ball had been…well, to be honest, it was something that she had tried her best not to think about. As it was she found herself _always_ thinking back to that night, especially whenever she met with Draco at the hospital since. She would not make working with him awkward, no, so she had to stop herself from thinking back…it was like meeting the real him for the first time in years, except he wasn't insulting her, and his confidence came off much less arrogant and insufferable, and much more attractive and spellbinding…

It was Monday, and that meant Emalia would be showing up after lunch for her appointment. Hermione made sure to get back to the hospital promptly, as she was anxious to see her patient.

Ever since the death of Terrence, Hermione had grieved at the realization that if only she had done more for him, if perhaps she had paid more attention and realized just how serious his denial was, then perhaps she could have prevented his demise. He had been such a friendly man at first, she had genuinely liked him, but now his was a voice she would not hear from again.

She would not make the same mistake with Emalia.

Draco Malfoy was leaning back on his chair and staring out the window. He only had a week left of taking the potion, and then he'd be done; his two months were almost up. After that, would he keep the job? He weighed the pros and cons. Without his appointments, he wouldn't have an excuse to be here at St. Mungo's besides working, as he had been for the past month now.

Hermione would never hear him say it, but he actually didn't mind being her assistant anymore. The paperwork was menial, admittedly, but it made the time go by, and—no, he wouldn't admit to himself that he had grown to enjoy seeing Hermione everyday, being in her company while she fiddled with potion mixing, walking in and out of the room next door with patients, and occasionally exchanged words and even smiled for him. No, he would not admit it—but, hadn't he just done so?

Hermione walked into her office, tossed her jacket to the nearest chair, flung her purse on top of it and said, "Hello Malfoy, has Emalia arrived yet?"

"She has." He confirmed. "She's waiting in the room for you."

"Alright, thanks." She nodded, pausing a moment by her purse and taking something out. "Oh, and here, I noticed you never go out for lunch, so I bought you a cookie to munch on."

She placed it in front of him on the desk, and then whisked out of the office and into the other room.

Draco stared down at the cookie for a few minutes, taking in the chunky bits of chocolate sticking out of the soft, round, brownish texture. A chocolate-chip cookie. Merlin, he hadn't seen, much less tasted, one of those in years.

Unwrapping the protective plastic around it, he took a deep whiff of the cookie, and then brought it to his lips, savouring the taste of it slow and tender.

Forget what he said about Granger before—she was a goddess in disguise.

Emalia hadn't improved much in appearance. Almost two solid months of treatment, and her skin was still sickly pale, though she no longer kept her eye downcast. She was also very quiet. She was actually quite a pretty woman, by natural standards. She was young, barely twenty-seven, and she had lovely silky chestnut brown hair. If she would just get some colour into her life, smile for once, then quite possibly Hermione wouldn't worry so much about her.

Terrence hadn't shown signs of a suicidal mind, Emalia did, and that's what had worried Hermione the most. So how was it, that Terrence was found drowned in a river, while Ema was still carrying on, willing to wait through her third and final month of potion sessions? Taking in the woman sitting inconspicuously on the hospital bed, Hermione figured she must be stronger than everyone was willing to see.

"Ema, how good to see you." Hermione, smiled, walking over to her potion cabinet and pulling out the vial of potion intended for Emalia. "How's work at Flourish & Blotts?"

"Fine."

"Are you enjoying it?"

"It's interesting."

"Oh? Do you like your coworkers?"

Some life flicked into her eyes then, Hermione noted.

"Yes…some of them."

"Oh, well that's good to here. Here you are." Hermione handed the vial over and Emalia drank it slowly, carefully.

Strong or not, this woman still needed her help.

"Ema, are you busy on Saturday?"

Emalia handed the empty vial back the Hermione, swallowing the remains in her mouth. "Pardon?"

"This Saturday, you know, five days away from today? Are you busy that night?"

Emalia shook her head tentatively.

"Great, well I'm holding a little party for my friends who just got engaged, and I'd love it if you would come."

"But…I don't know them." She answered, clearly puzzled by the idea.

"Yes I know, but I would still like you to come, and if you do then you will know them. That is, I'll introduce you. So, how about it?"

"I don't know…"

"Come on, it's a dinner party, not lunch, so you don't have to worry about not eating. Which reminds me," Hermione walked over to her cabinet, taking another vial out.

"I put aside some other potion for you to start taking, which should help you with your diet. Here, take some of this now."

Emalia did so, feeling a little fuzzy afterwards.

"The side effect is dizziness for the first few minutes after consuming it, but it shouldn't be anything beyond mild." Hermione added.

"No." Emalia assented.

"Good, now as for Saturday, I'll just give you the address. You can apparate right to our door."

"Uh…" Emalia wasn't sure what to say exactly. She meant to politely decline, but something within her was preventing her from doing so.

Hermione tore a piece of paper from her notebook and quickly quilled in her address, handing the slip over to Emalia seconds later.

"There now, I'll see you again on Thursday."

"So…how's she doing?" Draco asked when Hermione returned into the room.

"Who Ema? Well…I don't know, I'm kind of worried about her."

"You don't want her to end up like Terrence." He concluded.

Hermione took a seat across from Draco at the desk, letting out a deep breath. "That's what I'm afraid of. There's something about her though. She may seem depressed and dead inside, but I think there's more lurking underneath."

Draco nodded. "I don't think she'll end up like him. It's strange but, I…when I first got out of Azkaban, I'll admit, I thought about you know, just killing myself."

"And now?"

"Now…the thought of suicide doesn't work with me. I can't imagine taking my life right now, it's not the best grant it, but I still wouldn't end it."

"The potion's helped you," Hermione reached across the table, taking his hand. "I'm glad."

Ignoring the tingling feeling of his hand under hers, he told himself firmly to pull away, but couldn't make himself.

"I don't think it's just the potion, actually." He sighed in defeat a moment later.

He noticed her cheeks tinge pink slightly, and couldn't help but admire how beautiful she looked when she blushed.

"Well…I invited Ema over Saturday for a dinner party, I think that will help her." Hermione added in a soft voice. "I don't suppose you'd like to come too?"

Draco blinked. "What, why?"

She shrugged, meeting his cloudy eyes with a smile. "It could help you too, getting back into social circles. Plus, maybe Ema won't feel so bad being the only outsider."

"What exactly is this dinner party for? Just having some friends over?"

She shook her head. "Neville proposed to my roommate, Luna Lovegood. She was at Hogwarts, a year under us."

Draco shook his head "Can't remember her."

"Well, I'm throwing them a little dinner party at the flat."

"Who else will be there then besides Longbottom? I suppose I should expect weasels?"

"Malfoy!" Hermione pulled her hand from his and in the moment he cursed himself for missing its warmth. Or was he cursing himself because he made her pull away?

Straightening up in her chair, she went on. "Ron will be there along with Ginny, and Harry too. Then there's Luna, Neville, me of course, and now Emalia. I think it would be nice if you came, but if you're just going to revert to your childhood self of Hogwarts and sneer at them, then it's better if you don't come at all."

"Well, I didn't even say if I was going to come in the first place, now did I?" He retorted irritably.

"Fine then, forget it." She said quite calmly, standing up, though he could tell just by her rigid body that she was annoyed with him now.

"No wait Granger, look I'm…sorry."

She crossed her arms across her chest and glared at him. "Oh, are you?"

"Yes. You were trying to be nice and I was right tosser. I uh, apologize."

"Listen Malfoy—"

"Draco."

"What?"

"Sometimes you call me Malfoy, sometimes you call me Draco. I think you just might as well get it over with and start calling me just Draco, for good."

"Alight, just Draco, look, if you don't want to come I understand. You never got along with any of them at Hogwarts, but then again, you never got along with me, right? Anyway, I'll leave it up to you. Here's the address."

She moved to her notebook, ripping another piece of paper out and grabbing a pen from her purse. "Here, you have till Saturday to decide."

Draco took the address, staring down at it and wondering just what he was going to do.

"I mean, I won't pretend that this is a wild party instead of just the simple dinner that it's going to be. But then, what else do you have to do Saturday night anyway?"

So it was either spend time at Granger's flat with old school's foes, try and get along with everyone or at least keep his mouth shut, or it was sitting in the manor alone once again, burning family portraits because he didn't like the way they looked at him.

Right, so dinner party it was then.

"What really? You invited Emalia and Malfoy?"

"Well, I don't think Luna will mind. And you know, it's thanks to her and her team of enchantists that Draco and Ema are free. I think it'll be good for Ema to come, she's been cooped up at home and even after two months of taking the potion she hasn't changed so much."

"What about Malfoy?"

"He needs to socialize too."

Ginny smiled suggestively. "And it has nothing to go with the fact that he's a bloody sexy wanker?"

"Gin!" Hermione rolled her eyes. "Only you would think of that as reason enough to invite him over, but this has got nothing to do with the fact that he's hot."

"Well…just as long as you admit he is a sexy beast."

Hermione rolled her eyes again. "He's a sexy beast, admitted, but a dark one at that."

"Mysterious men are a turn-on, you know?" Ginny winked.

Hermione picked up a carrot from her salad dish and threw it at Ginny.

Draco stood outside the apartment door of Hermione Granger. He hadn't told her if he had decided to come or not, not making up his mind completely until he got home from work that Saturday, only to have one of the portraits, the one of his great great uncle Warwick Malfoy, sneering at him as he passed by. Well, he'd just have to take that portrait off the wall after he got back, because he wasn't going to dedicate his night to destroying objects that derided him. No, it was madness. He was going out, whether he liked it or not, whether he ended up jinxing the Minister of Magic or Puddlemere United's most valuable player or not.

And if he was going out, he was going to look good. Granted, he was Draco Malfoy, he always looked good. A Malfoy always has the classiest of clothes, after all. He threw on a pair of black slacks and a blue silk shirt, looking more like he was going to a fancy restaurant as opposed to a friendly dinner party. But these were the clothes he had owned back when he was seventeen, just before he got thrown into Azkaban. Since getting out, he hadn't done any shopping. His mother had made sure all his clothes were classy. And then she passed away from a broken heart.

Rummaging behind his walk-in-closest, he soon found his more casual clothing, the stuff his mother kept in the back, only to be used when he was off doing something that didn't require him to keep up the Malfoy image…which was never. He found a pair of loose pale jeans and a warm navy sweater that would be good for October's chill. Then he found it; his old racer-style leather brown jacket. At the time he bought it, he had thought about buying a motorcycle to match. Not a muggle one of course, no, a real enchanted wizard's motorcycle. Tugging the jacket on and looking at the time on his nightstand, he realized he had better set out or he'd be later than fashionably late and probably miss the dinner all together.

And now he stood outside her apartment, wondering if he should go through with it and knock. Then he heard someone cough. Emalia was standing next to him, waiting for him to open the door.

"You just get here?" He asked, though the answer was obvious.

She nodded. "Going in?"

"Or I suppose we could just run." He joked.

"Let's go in. I think she'd be happy if we did."

Yes, there was no doubt Granger wanted them to come.

"You're right." He smiled tightly. "Let's go."

He had barely knocked on the door once when it swung open, a very merry redhead with sparkling eyes and looking like she was slightly tipsy smiled and ushered them in. But then, she was pregnant, so Draco doubted she'd be drinking.

"Come in you two! What, did you come together or something?" She laughed, closing the door after they stepped through it.

"No, Malfoy was waiting outside for a good five minutes before she came." Neville said before thinking.

Draco turned to glare at him and Neville shuddered under his gaze, saying sheepishly, "sorry, I've still got my auror scout-contacts on. I could see you."

"Never mind that," Ginny waved her hand in the air to dismiss the thought. "The point is, you two are here and just in time for dinner."

"Now, let's see," She chewed on her finger nail in thought, "the boys are setting the table, Hermione's in the kitchen, and Luna watching some sort of movie. Why don't you two go join Luna?"

"Um…where do we put our coats?" Emalia asked lightly.

"Oh, how silly of me!" Ginny hit her forehead for effect. "Hand them over here, oh, you too Malfoy, there, thank you. I'll just put these away for you. Now go, go sit on the couch with Luna and amuse yourselves until dinner is ready."

"She seems scary." Draco said pleasantly to Emalia as they made their way to the couch.

Ema shook her head, mumbled something back that Draco didn't quite catch, and sat herself down on the couch all the way at the end. That left a spot for Draco in-between her and Luna. The second he sat down, Luna turned to him and almost jumped back in fright.

"You're Draco Malfoy!"

"I am indeed." He nodded in mock seriousness.

"Geez, I'm sorry but…you can't just spring up on people like that. I mean, I knew you were coming, Hermione told me, but still it didn't really sink in till now, you know, you just materializing on my couch."

"I didn't materialize here. I used the door to get in."

"So, how does it feel to be innocent?" Luna asked, her attention diverted away from the television and now completely on him.

Draco looked as her as if she was stupid, and answered bluntly, "I've always been innocent, so I wouldn't know anything else. But tell me, how does it feel being the girlfriend of Longbottom? Has your brain been shrinking since you two started going out?"

"Malfoy!" Neville, who had been standing not too far off talking with Ginny suddenly came up, his wand pointed out directly at Draco.

"Whoa, so I see you've lived up to being an auror after all." Draco commented dryly, leisurely getting up from the couch.

"What's going on here?" Harry demanded, him and Ron having just magically set the table for their dinner. They both noticed Neville with his wand pointed aggressively at Draco and Ron added, "Should have known it had to do with the ferret."

Without waiting for things to get worse, Ginny made her way to the kitchen, where Hermione was finishing off a cooking and heating spell on her lasagna. "You better go out there before the boys kill each other."

When Hermione entered the living room seconds later, she was greeted by the site of Harry, Ron, and Neville all looking menacing while pointing their wands at the scowling Draco.

"What's this about?" Hermione stepped in-between them, blocking the three Gryffindors and their wands from the offending Slytherin.

"Move out of the way 'Moine, we've got a serpent to skin alive."

"Serpents shed their own skin, you know?" Luna added in, sitting by the couch and apparently finding this more interesting to watch then the telly.

"What caused thi—"

"He did!" They yelled before she could even finish.

"She did." Malfoy said calmly, nodding his head towards Luna behind him.

"What? Okay one at a time. Harry you tell me what happened."

Harry lowered his wand, suddenly looking abashed. "Well, see the thing is, I'm not sure. But he must have done something because Neville had his wand pointed at him when Ron and I came to see what was happening."

Pinching the bridge of her nose as if to stop the flow of irritation she was currently feeling, Hermione said, "Alright, Neville, what happened then?"

"He insulted both Luna and I." Neville said, his wand still poised high though Hermione was still blocking him. "He thinks just because he's out of there he can come around and start bullying me around again, but—"

"Au contraire Longbottom," Draco interrupted lowly, "I'm not here to bully you. I got invited to dinner, so I came, it's got nothing to do with you."

"Draco, what did you say to him?"

"I was talking to her," He glanced to Luna again. "She was mocking my innocence, and I felt the need to retaliate. Immature, I know, however, the little tedious thing I said about Neville being stupid is nothing compared to her audacity to ask me how it felt to be innocent."

"Huh, Luna why'd you ask him that?" Neville immediately lowered his wand, walking over to her on the couch.

She shrugged. "I wasn't mocking you, Draco Malfoy. What I meant was, how does it feel to be free of Azkaban, that's all."

Hermione stepped in to explain when she saw Draco's confused expression. "Luna can be random I know, but that's the way she is. She'd never intentionally give offence."

"Oh well…never mind then." Draco turned to Neville "Look Longbottom, I didn't mean it, so relax your grip on that wand in your hand, okay?"

Neville pocketed his wand, saying, "Yeah okay, and I'm sorry Draco, you're right, I shouldn't have gotten upset over such a meaningless insult."

"Aw, group hug!" Ginny called, breaking the tension in the air.

"How about we eat instead. Dinner's ready." Hermione suggested.

After dinner, they were all in the living room sipping glasses of wine, or in Ginny's case, milk, and talking.

Ron and Harry had immersed themselves in a game of wizard's chess, Neville and Luna sat cozily on the couch watching a black and white movie. Emalia was sitting on the far end of the couch, watching the movie too and keeping to herself. Draco was leaning against the wall, sipping wine and wondering what the hell he was doing here. Not that this wasn't a million times better than being at home alone, but still, did he really belong with these warm, generally happy people?

"You know, Draco's really changed." Ginny said lowly to Hermione, glancing at him.

Both of them were sitting apart from the others, in a conversation of their own.

"Yes he has, but he's still got that arrogant streak in him I'm afraid."

"But he's still quite sexy." Ginny giggled.

"You know what Ginny, you've convinced me that pregnant women are crazy."

"Oh come on! Look at him 'Moine, he's gorgeous. If he has changed for the better, I think you should go for it."

Hermione nearly choked on her wine as she took a sip, but composed herself enough not to spit it out everywhere. Needless to say her face changed shades.

"'Moine…you already fancy him, don't you?"

"Don't be silly Gin, that's completely ridiculous."

"Then how come you call him Draco instead of Malfoy?"

"He told me to call him that. I'm serious Ginny, I don't feel that way about him. At all, seriously."

Ginny's smile couldn't be any wider. "I don't know, perhaps you do. Yes, Perhaps."

Ron jumped up from his chair, yelling. "Victory! I beat _the_ Harry Potter, again!"

"Yeah, big surprise." Harry rolled his eyes, getting up. "I think I'll go check out what movie they're watching now."

"Alright, who wants to face me next?" Ron asked gazing around the room.

Hermione and Ginny shook their heads at him, and Harry settled onto the couch, the cuddled Neville and Luna sitting to his right, and Ema to his left.

"How about you?" Ron said, coming up to her.

She looked up at him blankly.

"Fancy a game of wizard's chess?" He elaborated.

"Oh um…I don't know if I could." She admitted shyly. "I haven't played in years."

"Then you'll play now." He smiled, reaching for her arm and pulling her up off the couch, startling poor Ema. "Come on."

And before she knew it, Emalia was being dragged into a game of wizard's chess by the Minister of Magic.

"Hey, your last name is Rosier, right?" Ron asked, as the chess pieces re-positioned themselves on the board.

"Uh…yes."

"Well, I think somewhere down the family tree our families are connected."

"Yes well...most old wizard families are, so…perhaps."

"Yes, perhaps." Ron smiled, fascinated by the way her chestnut hair seem to curl in just at her shoulders "So, before we begin the game would you like me to get you some wine or punch or something? I'm a bit peckish myself."

Hermione was really starting to worry about the fact that Draco just seemed to want to stand by himself off to the side of the room. "Maybe we should go talk to him."

"Good idea." Ginny agreed, and they walked over to him.

"So Malfoy, you seemed pretty guarded about the fact that you're innocent earlier. I must admit I'm curious to hear your story."

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed. "Draco pay no attention to her, she's just pregnant and her mind is muddled."

Draco looked down at Ginny and smiled. "If you really want to know, I don't mind telling. You're actually the first person to ask me what happened."

Hermione's jaw dropped. She hadn't asked him because she didn't think he wanted to talk about it. If she had known he was waiting for someone to ask, hell, she would have asked ages ago herself.

"Ooh, let's get comfortable for this then, my ankles feel like tree trunks as it is." Ginny grabbed his arm, pulling a bemused Draco over to a couple of chairs off to the side of the room.

Hermione followed behind, equally bewildered by her friend's actions. Once all three of them were sitting, Ginny turned to Draco and said, "Go on."

"It happened just before our sixth year. My first assignment was to destroy Dumbledore." Shaking his head at the memory he added. "Besides Azkaban, that had to have been one of the worst times in my life. I couldn't do it. I tried, I knew I had no choice, but I just couldn't bring myself to carry it out successfully."

"But you did hurt some people in the process." Ginny commented. "Like Katie…"

'I know," Draco nodded clearly ashamed, "I know, but I had to try or the Dark Lor—Voldemort would have known I wasn't trying. I didn't even fully grasp my incapability to kill till the night of Dumbledore's death. I had thought I could do cold-blood murder, Lucius could and he was my father, and I thought I'd follow in his footsteps, be the next generation of Death Eater Malfoy. But I couldn't do it. Snape had to finish him off for me, I couldn't bring myself to—"

"But then you ran off with Snape and the Death Eaters afterwards." Hermione pointed out faintly, slowly taking in everything she was hearing and trying to remember the night of Dumbledore's death.

"I did, at first." He agreed. "But I rejoined my mother, worried about her safety. I wanted to run then, to escape before the war started, but my mother wouldn't leave without father, he had been in Azkaban all year and she had been miserable without either of us. When Voldemort freed my father, my family was disgraced among the Death Eators and they used our manor as a headquarters, a place for their victims and Lord Voldemort's station. I hated him there, but it was too late to escape then. I had to go back to Hogwarts in seventh year, as a Death Eator, and pretend that I liked it."

"When what you were was terrified out of your mind." Hermione breathed.

"Yea. I was. I remember when they brought you in. You, Potter, and Weasley, during Easter holiday. I didn't want to be a part of it, but I knew what he could do to my mother, if I didn't at least pretend to care…I had to give Potter up. And Bellatrix…I could not stomach what she was doing to you. Up in my room, I could hear her below with you, and I threw up a few times."  
These were painful memories for Hermione too. She gripped her sleeve, hiding the scar "_Mudblood_" that Bellatrix had carved into her arm.  
"So, by the end of the war, that final battle at Hogwarts, Grabbe and Goyle were pushing me, trying to make me their leader or take over because I was too weak, and I just snapped. I had to catch Potter, to prove I wasn't a coward to them. I was seized by this anger over everything and I was ready to take it out on him. I'm afraid in that moment I may have even killed Potter. Thankfully it didn't end that way. The sod ended up saving my life."

"That sod is my husband, careful." Ginny said.

"Anyway, after the war, my family didn't know what to think. Me and my father did not see eye to eye, and he knew this. He loved me but he was disappointed in me. I loved him but I couldn't respect him. My mother was in misery over what would happen in the future. She was right. They took my father and I after within weeks of the war ending, and we were put on trial and found guilty. When I heard he died two years ago, the letters from my mother stopped coming. I think she believed I would die in there too, so she gave up hope on her own life."

"That's just miserable." Ginny was crying. "But, why didn't you say something! You were innocent!"

Draco looked her in the eye, putting a cool to her agitated words the moment before.

"Who would believe me? You all knew me as a Death Eater. The war was over and you were all rounding up the bad guys. Why bother demanding my innocence when I knew no one would listen."

"So instead you chose to rot away in jail for five years?" Hermione asked in amazement. "Draco surely they could have found some proof of your innocence!"

Calmly, Draco pulled the sleeve of his navy sweater back, flashing his faded dark mark at them. "This is all the proof they would have needed to put me behind bars without listening to my story."

Neither of the women could dispute that. The tension in the air had risen, the mood darkened, and Draco looked even more withdrawn then before.

"Well, I suppose I should be getting home now." He commented a minute later, standing up.

"Draco wait—" Hermione started, but on catching his eye realized she needed to give him his space. "Let me get your jacket for you."

"Thank you." He replied unemotionally, though she could hear the underlying message, that he was thankful she wouldn't keep him.

"Well it was good to see you." Ginny stood up, patting him on the arm awkwardly. "Really, you should come to lunch with me and Hermione sometime, that'd be nice."

"Maybe I will." He shrugged.

"Everyone, Draco's leaving, say bye!" Ginny called before he could turn away.

Luna was the first to smile broadly from her place on the couch, "Goodbye Draco, thanks for coming."

"Yeah, thanks for having me." He didn't sound too enthusiastic, but it was enough for Luna.

" 'Night Malfoy." Neville said by Luna's side, and Harry hesitantly added in, "bye."

"See ye." He said, walking over to the door.

Ron was too busy trying to fathom how he was losing in a game of wizard's chess against Ema, to even acknowledge Draco's departure.

"Here's your jacket." Hermione said, handing it to him by the door. "And really, thanks for coming. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

Stepping out of her apartment, Draco was able to say just seconds before Hermione closed the door behind him, "I'm happy I came."

* * *

8/25/13


	11. Sway: At Last

**Come Fly With Me**

**A/N**: I'm back to Bublé: here's Sway, another great song. Accompanying Sway, is At Last, sung by the very classy Etta James. I'm sure many of you will be saying "at last!" once you read this chapter. I mean, it took 11 chapters just for them to get to this point!

* * *

**Sway: At Last**

**Chapter 11**

"I've got good news for you Ema." Hermione Granger said, accepting the now empty vial from her patient.

"Oh?" Emalia Rosier replied, massaging her temple.

The second concoction, the one Hermione gave her to help with her eating habits, was making her a little dizzy.

"Today starts off November, and you know what that means? You've got about a week left of potion taking and then you've finally completed your three months of treatment."

"Oh, that's…" Emalia's gaze shifted from the floor to match the healer's standing before her. "That's…I don't know quite what to think."

"You should be happy." Hermione beamed. "This last month I've seen a real change in you. I'd say after the week is up we won't have to schedule you for an extra month."

"Were you planning to?"

"At first, I thought maybe you'd need more," She admitted, reaching for her notebook on the side table. "I'm going to have to record your progress now Ema, so I'll be asking the usual things."

Emalia smiled faintly. "Alright, I suppose to first question will be, have I been getting out of the house much? You asked me that last time, and the time before."

"Yes, and when I recorded your progress last month, you said that outside of work, no. The answer has changed, I hope."

"Yes, but…well, its not what you would think. I haven't been in contact with anyone. I've just taken up the habit of evening strolls, after dinner. You told me routine could help me get back on track, and I've really become accustomed now to eating a meal and then going out for a walk."

"Well, that's certainly progress." Hermione jotted down a few notes, though slightly disappointed Ema still wasn't socializing. "How long would you say your walks are?"

Emalia had to think for a moment before answering. "I'm not sure there's a set time. Mostly, I just walk up to town and look at the shops, and sometimes I go to the park instead. I'm usually gone a couple of hours though. It's been helping me build up my appetite as well."

"That must be good exercise then," Hermione said kindly, closing her notebook. "You know what Ema, I'm feeling a bit hungry myself now. How about we go grab something to munch on and I'll continue your progress report later?"

"Alright then," Ema said. "I haven't been able to eat a full meal around lunch yet, but I've been working up to it."

"Great, I know a Bistro we can go to." Hermione said, taking her healer cloak off. "I used to go there almost everyday with Ginny. You remember her from the dinner party last month, right?"

Emalia nodded, following her into the next room.

"Well, she finally took a leave of absence a couple of weeks ago, her baby's due at the end of this month. So I haven't been there in a while. It's usually just the hospital's cafeteria and Draco for company, hardly satisfactory." She joked, as she walked over to the coat hanger, pulling her coat off the handle.

"Draco," She said to the man sitting at the desk on the other side of the room, pretending he hadn't heard her just tease him.

Draco looked up from the paperwork with a raised eyebrow in question.

"I'm stepping out for early lunch with Emalia. Would you like to come today?"

"Not this time. I've got to get caught up with your paperwork." He said with a deadpan face.

Hermione rolled her eyes, smiling. "You can always just quit, you know?"

"Then who'd you enslave to do your dirty work for you?" He grinned back.

"Well, we'll see you when we get back then." Hermione took hold of her purse and lead the way out the door, Ema following behind with a comical smile of her own—quite unlike her—playing about her features.

When Hermione Granger got back to work that day, there was a surprise waiting for her. She and Emalia had walked back into her office room to find a stout old woman, with a peacock hat and stuffy looking dress-suit, being ushered to sit down by Draco.

"Ms. Burdy?" Hermione asked, once she got a good look at the woman's face.

Ms. Iza Burdy was one of Hermione patients, a woman she had treated a couple of weeks ago for a mild cold. The woman was a tad senile, or as Draco had referred to her under his breath so only Hermione could hear, a batty old lady.

"Yes hello dear." Ms. Burdy gave her signature crinkle smile. "I'm sorry to be troubling you but…"

"Yes?" Hermione said patiently, slipping out of her coat and hanging it up.

"She's got a patient for you Granger." Draco answered, a strange glint in his eyes.

Hermione gave him a questioning glance wondering what was going on, when Emalia said behind her. "Oh, alright then. How about I come back tomorrow and we finish the questions?"

"Oh, uh…" Actually, Hermione had wanted to get them done then, but her curiosity about Draco's look made up her mind for her. "Tomorrow before noon, I should be free then Ema."

Emalia left the office room then, leaving Hermione to figure out what was going on.

"So what's this about a patient, Ms. Burdy? Did you bring someone here with you, a family member or friend or…?" She trailed off as the woman in question held up a stain-glass bottle to her face.

"It's Sway, my pet, dear," Ms. Burly said. "My pet genie has taken ill."

Hermione glanced above the stocky lady's shoulder until her gaze met the much taller Draco. His mouth was twisted into an amused grin.

"Ms. Burdy," Hermione sighed, "I'm only a healer, not a certified magical-creature caretaker. I'm afraid I'm not qualified to—"

"Yes yes dear, I realize your profession deals with people, not pets, but please, I simply don't trust some of the caretakers out there now. If I had time I'd contact the one at Hogwarts, but anyways, all the ones near by are simply rubbish, and you helped me so much with that cold of mine, I thought maybe you could at least take a look."

Behind Ms. Burdy, Draco shrugged, as if to say why not to Hermione.

"I suppose a look wouldn't hurt, but I can't prescribe anything for your pet. You'll have to bring him to a caretaker, I can just tell you what I think he's got."

"That's the spirit dear, help Sway out where you can." The woman smiled, uncorking the bottle and placing it on the ground.

Immediately, a purple hazy mist spilled out of the bottle and onto the tiled floor, until it collected and took shape, forming into the body of what looked like a very sick genie pet.

Hermione had never seen one before in her life, only reading about such creatures in books before. The muggle myth of genies portrayed them as human-like creatures, granting three wishes to whoever captured them. When Hermione was in her fifth year, some extra curricular reading cured her of those myths. She soon discovered that genies where in fact, rare animal-like creatures, resembling bunnies without the ears, who lived naturally in shells or hallow boulders in the forest. To catch one was a very lucky and extraordinary thing, and once the genie was caught, one usually gave it a container such as a bottle, vase, or even lamp to reside in. Outside of their domain they may have been as big as a bunny, but inside their resting place they could shrink to impossibly small sizes.

The purple haze solidified into a purplish-grey genie pet, with eyes glazed over and trembling slightly.

"Wow, a real genie." Hermione said to herself.

"Quite the site, isn't it? My parents tried to get me one for my fifth birthday, but didn't manage." Draco came to stand next to Hermione, peering down at the little creature.

Hermione couldn't stop herself from saying, "what, so there was something that money couldn't buy after all? You must have thrown quite the tantrum."

Draco side-glanced at her, his eyes narrowing. "I was upset, yes, but Malfoy's don't throw tantrums."

"Oh, I'm sure." She nodded, her expression serious but her tone teasing, "and if you ever have a son, I'd love to hear you say that to him while he storms and rants about not getting something he wants for the first time."

Draco was hit with the sudden vision of himself sitting by a bed with a miniature him, the boy throwing his pillow about and wailing and Draco trying to calm him down. For some unexplainable reason, Hermione seemed to be there as well, standing by the door in a nightgown and robe, biting her lip as if trying to stop herself from laughing at the scene.

"Anyway," Hermione's voice broke him out of his bizarre thoughts, "You hold Sway here and I'll take a look inside his mouth, okay?"

"Right." Draco said, bending down to pick the genie up, and pretending he didn't care about what ever the hell it was he had just been thinking of.

He straightened up, keeping a firm hold on the creature in his arms, as Hermione took a tongue depressor from the collection in her desk and slowly opened the creature's mouth.

"This doesn't look good." She said to the fidgety Ms. Burdy, who stood twitchily aside waiting for the verdict. "Not good at all. There seems to be some green fungus—"

Just then the genie sneezed, his mouth clamping on to the tongue depressor in his mouth. When the genie opened his eyes back up, he noticed he was no longer in the healer's office room, but rather, back in his stain-glass bottle. And he was not alone.

"You've got to be kidding me." Draco said, looking around at his new surroundings.

"We're in the bottle, aren't we?" Hermione said, letting go of the tongue depressor.

"Seems so, doesn't it? Looks like his little guy," Draco looked at the genie in his arms, "sneezed us all into his bottle."

"But where's Ms. Burdy?"

"She wasn't holding on to him, so I imagine she's still in the room."

"Good, then she can get help."

Just then, they heard the shrilling sounds of Ms. Burdy scream from outside the bottle.

"They're all gone!"

"Well, that should get someone's attention."

"How long before they find us though?"

"What do you mean? Let's just get out of here ourselves." Draco said, pulling his wand out of his trouser pockets and speaking an incantation.

Nothing happened.

"It won't work." Hermione informed him. "Wizard's magic can't counteract a genie's. Either the people outside find a loophole to get us out, or Sway decides to leave this place and take us with him."

"Always the know-it-all, Granger." Draco teased.

"Always the ignorant one, Malfoy."

Just then, Sway the genie opened his mouth, yawning deeply as the tongue depressor fell to the bottle's ground. Seconds later, one thing was evident enough.

Draco shook his head. "The little bugger just dozed off, look at him. I don't think he's planning on going anywhere anytime soon."

"The other alternative is that his owner, Ms. Burdy, wishes for all of us to come out. I wonder how long it'll take her to realize that though."

"Merlin, that could take forever. The old maid's completely off her rocker."

"Draco, that's not nice."

"But it's true. I can hear Peeves singing it right now. Burdy the Barmy, Burdy the Batty."

"Stop it. I'm sure she'll either figure out where we are herself, or inform someone who will find us. Then, all she has to do is directly address Sway. I suppose we'll have to wake him up when she finally comes around to the bottle."

"So until then I suppose we're supposed to make ourselves comfortable?" Draco said doubtfully, not much liking what he saw.

Hermione didn't either. "There's green fungus lining the bottle's wall, just like in his mouth. That's probably what's causing him to be sick, this green mould."

"So I guess it's just a case of cleaning out the bottle once in a while then."

"Looks like it. Alright, while we're here we might as well clean up a bit."

"I thought you said we couldn't use magic here."

"No, I said we couldn't do any magic that would counteract his. He brought us here, ergo we can't leave unless he takes us out of his home. This growing fungus on his walls probably wasn't put there by him. I doubt the creature would purposely make himself sick."

"Unless of course he wanted to die and so rid himself of the lovely Ms. Burdy."

"Draco, how could you? She's such a sweet lady." Hermione scolded.

"Right, I know, I'm the heartless Slytherin and you're the heart-of-gold Gryffindor. Anyway, the point is we can take care of this muck on the walls ourselves, right?"

"I think so."

"What, unsure Hermione? That's not like you." Draco grinned.

"Let's just try and see." She answered.

They both pointed their wands to the wall, simultaneously saying, "Scourgify."

It took them a good twenty minutes to clear the whole bottle, being as small as they were and the round wall of the bottle stretching up four stories high in ratio.

"There, now the pretty colours of the bottle can shine through." Hermione smiled, liking the way the light from the outside collided with the stain-glass bottle, sending shots of colour everywhere within.

"It's kind of hurting my eyes." Draco admitted, sitting himself down at the edge of the rounding wall, tired from cleaning.

"Close your eyes then." Hermione said, taking a seat next to him and stretching her legs out.

"What and trust you? I don't think so." He smiled.

"Shut up Malfoy. I'm a damn sight more trustful then you are."

"Or so you would have us all to believe Granger, but everyone's got a record."

Just then the sleeping genie made a snorting noise in his slumber not far off. They both found it somewhat funny and shared a little laugh over it.

"I bet you're worse than that though." Hermione giggled.

"What? I sleep as sound as a baby." Draco assured. "Most nights anyway. I still have the occasional nightmare."

He had meant it as a joke, but Hermione took is seriously.

"Is it as bad as that?" She asked, looking at him in a mix of sadness and sympathy. "I realize, five years in Azkaban must have been hell, and working for Voldemort before that—"

"Was just as bad." He interrupted. "It was, but we really don't need to talk about this."

"I know you don't, Draco. You've recovered, or at least it seems that way. But I don't know, I still want to know about your past, how it was. Do you really have nightmares about those days?"

Draco looked away from her, wishing they could have just steered away from this.

"I've only had a couple since I've gotten out. It was worse while I was locked up. The Dark Lo—Voldemort, was always in my dreams, torturing me, sometimes even my mother, for betraying him. After getting out of Azkaban, I only had a couple of bad dreams, most of them with me still stuck in that hellhole, rotting away."

"But lately? Have you had any nightmares? Because if you have, you know I could give you something to treat it."

Draco smiled and shook his head. "Don't worry about it Hermione, I'm okay. Like I said before, I've been sleeping like a baby for the past while, evil-conscience free and all."

"Good." She beamed.

"As for you, now I bet you're a real snorer. That's why you aren't married yet, and why your roommate Luna is marrying Longbottom. To get away from your apartment and your snoring."

"Hey!" Hermione protested, their eyes locking in a staring match.

And that's when they both realized how close they were, sitting next to each other, leaning against the bottle's wall. Hermione's complaint fizzled on her lips, and instead she found herself turning her face upwards to the intoxicating cloudy grey eyes, as they seemed to be moving closer and closer…

"Hello, can you hear me down there?"

Broken out of their strange trance, Hermione and Draco were forced to cover their ears against the blasting voice that echoed through the bottle.

"We've just been notified by Ms. Burdy of the situation. She's going to wish you all out now."

"At last! The old bat finally realizes," Draco said, his voice unusually rough, as his hands remained securely clamped over his ears.

"We have to wake up Sway so he hears the command." Hermione said, getting up and walking over to the sleeping pet.

She used one hand to gently stir him awake while she protected one of her ears with her other hand, awaiting another booming voice to talk into the bottle.

The pet yawned, his groggy eyes slowly opening. Hermione had just enough time to retreat her hand and cover her other ear as Ms. Burdy's voice bellowed into the bottle.

"Sway darling, I wish you would come out now, and bring those two dears with you."

The creature waddled over to the two humans in question, gazing at them fixedly in response. Draco and Hermione lost no time in grabbing hold of the creature, as he blinked his eyes and brought them all out of the bottle and back into the bigger and brighter world.

"Ah, you're all safe then, splendid," said one Hermione's work associates; a mediwizard who had been summoned by the hysterical Ms. Burdy.

"Did you manage to find out what was wrong with him?" Ms. Burdy asked, picking up her little pet genie from the ground and cuddling him.

"I think we did." Hermione answered, though she felt as though she was on autopilot, her mind trying to register everything that had just happened in the last hour. "There seemed to have been a strange green substance growing on the bottle wall, and I found similar substance in your pet's mouth. I would take him to see a caretaker and get treatment just in case, but in the meantime I'd advise you to make sure you're cleaning out your pet's bottle every week or so."

"Thank you so much dears," Ms. Burdy said. "I must say though, that had been quite the experience for me, not knowing where you went. I think perhaps I'll take my sleeping pills early tonight. Today might have been just a little too exciting for me."

"I'll second that." Hermione said under her breath.

So low in fact, that Draco barely caught it.

oOo

"Alright Ema, I think that'll do for your records." Healer Hermione Granger said, closing up her notebook.

"Great, no more interrogations." Emalia joked.

It had caught Hermione so much off guard, she laughed perhaps a little more than the joke entailed.

"Wow, I didn't think I was a comedian."

"Neither did I." Hermione said a moment later. "That's the first time I've ever heard you say something like that. Ema, am I starting to see the real you?"

Emalia smiled, standing up from her seat, "maybe you are."

"Well, I'll see you for your next appointment in a couple of days, and then that's it, you're all done."

Emalia's smile faltered a bit. "I know, and I'm kind of sad about that. The appointments kind of gave me an excuse to go out twice a week during the day. Now what will I do? I suppose I could always go for more walks?"

"Well I could keep treating you for your diet until you're able to eat a full healthy meal during the day again." Hermione suggested. "And, perhaps we could always meet at the Bistro for lunch once a week."

"Really? You wouldn't mind?"

"Well sure," Hermione smiled. "I mean, who are my other options for a lunch chat? Everyone knows what a pain Draco is…"

Emalia couldn't help but notice that though Hermione was joking about Draco in her usual way, her voice was no longer confident and teasing when she said it, but something else; something much more uneasy and awkward.

"Anyway, when you come for your next appointment, let me know more about your work place. If you're not enjoying it there I could always talk to Ron about a ministry job."

_For Draco no,_ Hermione thought_, but for you Ema, yeah, he'd get you a job in an instant_.

"Oh yes, Ron is that man who I beat at wizard's chess right? He's the minister now, isn't he?"

"He is."

"Well, alright, I actually do enjoy working at Flourish & Blotts, but I'll think about it anyway. Goodbye then." Emalia said, leaving the room.

Hermione made her way to the office next door, telling herself she was being ridiculous to think there was tension in the room when she walked in. Okay, so she and Draco had almost kissed. It never did go through though, and the sooner she forgot about it the better. He didn't seem like he wanted to talk about it anyway. Draco had come to work earlier then she had that morning, he having a second key to her office, and since the time she walked in at nine in the morning till then, noon, he hadn't looked up from his desk and said one word to her. If he didn't want to talk about it that was fine, but she wished he wouldn't just ignore her completely. That'd just make the situation worse.

Well it was her lunch break at the moment anyway, and she wasn't planning on spending it in a room with a man who was bent on keeping silent. Grabbing her purse, she made her way to the door when his voice stopped her.

"Hermione."

She turned. "Yes?"

"Are you going to that Bistro?"

She hadn't planned on going. "I was just going to the cafeteria."

"Alright then."

What was that about, she thought, turning back to leave the room.

"Oh, and one more thing." He said, stopping her a second time.

"Yes Malfoy?"

"Are you doing anything tonight?"

* * *

**A/N:** Readers hate cliffhangers, writers love writing them, it's a fact of life.

-rayko.

* * *

8/25/13


	12. I'll be Seeing You

**Come Fly With Me**

**A/N: **"I'll be seeing you" by the beautiful Billie Holiday.

* * *

**I'll Be Seeing You**

**Chapter 12**

She could hear her blood pounding in her ears, but she kept her face passive. "Sorry?"

He repeated the question.

She answered with a false casualness. "Just the usual. Go home, throw something into a pot or pan, and watch some television with Luna if she's home tonight."

"Sounds invigorating."

"Why?"

"It was a joke Granger."

"No, _why_ did you ask?"

He paused. "I know a place."

"A place?"

"Yeah, a great place. To eat."

"Where?"

"Regent's Park."

"_Regent's Park_?"

"Yes, at the fountain in Queen Mary's Gardens. There's a wizards restaurant there, hidden from the muggles."

"…are you asking me on a date?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"If you want to be asked or not."

Now she could feel as well as hear the painful lurching of her heart. But she couldn't think. She could look at him, no longer sitting at his desk, but standing, facing her. She had been facing the door, ready to leave, but at some point she had turned around. His eyes looked sombre, and he was standing very still, hardly moving. This wasn't a joke. She needed time to think, but she could barely process anything in this moment.

"You are my assistant." She offered lamely.

"Not anymore. I quit."

"Malfoy!"

"I took the job because it was something to do. You don't need an assistant, we both know that. And I'm ready to get a real job, something that would actually be challenging, no offence."

"None taken." She breathed.

"So, I quit. Today's my last day. Is that going to create a problem for you?"

"No. I suppose not."

"Alright then. So, I'll be gone after lunch, since I came in quite early this morning."

Had that been his plan all along?

"Back to tonight, do you want to have dinner with me, or not?"

"Yes." She answered without any hesitation.

He smirked. "I thought so. I'll pick you up at seven."

"I can get to Regent's Park on my own."

"I'll pick you up at seven."

Stubborn git. "Fine, I'll be ready then."

She swept through the door, suddenly annoyed by his haughtiness. Where had it come from?

Instead of going to the cafeteria, Hermione took a left and huddled herself into the lady's room. Thankfully it was empty. She took out her phone and dialled impatiently.

"'lo?"

"Gin?"

"Hermione?"

"How's the baby?"

"Still in there. I'm completely shattered, and was about to take a nap. What's cracking?"

"Draco Malfoy just asked me to dinner."

"He asked you to dinner!"

"And he just quit his job as my assistant."

"He asked you to dinner!"

"Yes, tonight. And I'm going completely mental here."

"He's fancies you."

"Gin, I said yes."

"Malfoy fancies you!"

"Ginerva, I said YES."

"'Moine, you fancy him back!"

"I've lost my marbles."

"Oh tosh, there's nothing wrong dating him. He's yummy."

"Gin, your hormones are talking again."

"So, tonight? What are you going to wear?"

"Oh I don't know. That's the least of my concerns right now…"

"How about that sexy black strappy dress you bought that time in _Calais_?"

"Gin, that's not happening."

"…Listen 'Moine. I am weeks away from giving birth and my sex life is bugger all. Right now, I need to live through you! I need you to wear something sexy, and I need you to go and get the action that I am unable to. I _need_ this."

"You're as mad as a hatter if you think I'm sleeping with him. You know I won't do that before…"

"Yea, yea, Mother Theresa, just wear the chiffon wrap dress from _Calais _and you'll be giving the right message."

"Yes, I think I will. But that's not the point. The point is I'm not sure I even want to do this."

"Okay, and why not?"

"He's kind of…arrogant."

"Really? I thought you said he'd changed."

"He has….but, something in the way he asked me, he was so self-sure I wanted to go, and he insisted on picking me up, and I don't know, I just feel that old self of his under the surface."

"Well remember, _all_ Malfoys have that haughtiness about them. It's in his nature. If you can stomach it, I'm sure it's not as bad as his parents were. Maybe he was doing in unconsciously."

"I think he was." Which was what bothered her the most. It really was in his nature. "Well…I'll give him a go."

"And spare no details tomorrow morning when I ring you!"

oOo

True to his word, Draco was not there when she returned from work. _Thank Merlin_! She was frazzled, but managed to continue work and see a few patients before it was time to leave.

Back at her flat she tried on the rose pink chiffon wrap dress. November had become surprisingly tepid compared to October's chill, so she felt she could get away with this dress and her light long fall coat. She refused to put too much effort in her look. Her loose curls looked fine, thanks to _Curly Witches_ styling shampoo, and with a bit of mascara and pink lippy, it was good enough. She wanted to slip on ballerinas but could hear Ginny cursing her from miles away, so instead she would don black strappy heels.

Luna was off gallivanting with Neville, so Hermione was quite alone when at 6:59 her doorbell rang.

She opened it and there stood the man of the hour. He wearing black slacks, and a fitted charcoal dress shirt with white cuffs and collar. He was carrying his brown leather jacket over his arm. He looked casual formal, a perfect balance she knew came with the elegance of his family.

"Draco, do come in." She opened the door completely to allow him passage.

He strolled through the doors, taking in the familiar scenery of her flat. It seemed bigger now, without all the Gryffindors in it.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

"I need to go grab my purse. Would you like a bit of wine first?" She indicated to the bottle and glasses that sat on her counter.

This was the first time a man had picked her up from her flat on a first date (with Ron and Keeve, she had met them at the restaurant). She hadn't been sure if she was supposed to offer him anything before they set off. One website on _WizardSeeker_ mentioned offering wine, and she went with it.

"I'll pour, you go to get your bag." He responded.

When she came back from her room, he was sipping his Barolo. Another glass sat waiting on the counter.

She joined him and there was a steady silence as they drank. _Merlin, this is awkward_, she thought.

Somehow they finished their wine without speaking, and Hermione put the glasses in the sink, and off they went. Or rather, Draco grabbed her arm without warning, closed his eyes, and with a pop and a squeeze, they were standing in Queen Mary's Gardens.

"Thanks for the warning." She said, touching her forehead.

Drinking immediately before apparition was never a good idea, even if it had been a light wine.

"Sorry," Draco muttered, "didn't realize that would cause dizziness."

Of course he didn't. He hadn't had much opportunity to drink and apparate in one go for the past five years.

"You should wait a least half an hour after consuming any alcohol before doing that."

"I'll make a note of it Granger."

_Call me Hermione_, she thought, but was too self-conscious say it aloud. Instead she said, "So where is the restaurant?"

They stepped away from the metre high bushes, which had concealed their apparition, and made their way to the fountain at the end of the path.

The sun had set by then, but she could still make out the beautiful roses and other flora that surrounded them. It was a romantic setting and it made her feel anxious and expectant. The park was still open and a few people were walking around, but no one was paying them any attention.

At the fountain, Draco took a piece of white stone from his pocket and inserted it into one of the many dents of the old fountain. The stone matched perfectly, Hermione noted, as Draco stepped into the fountain, and beckoned her to follow. She glanced back at the surrounding garden, but it looked as if the people's faces were being repelled from the fountain. It must have been magic. She stepped into the fountain and was relieved that her feet felt perfectly dry, despite standing in over thirty centimetres of water. Draco took her arm and led her around the fountain until they were facing the back of the stone. There was a door there. He opened it and they stepped through. It looked as if they had stepped back into the exact same spot, fountain all. But Draco led her out and around the fountain again, and this time, the garden was different.

It was twice the size, with even more flora, and with a white-pillared two-story restaurant situated in the middle.

She barely had time to be awestruck by the stunning building when Draco, looking smug at her response, pulled her along to the entrance. Of course she would react this way; he had counted on it.

When they entered the maitre d' welcomed them warmly. "Bonsoir, monsieur Malfoy. Ah, qui est cette belle demoiselle?"

"_Hermione Granger_, ma copine."

The maitre d' continued the friendly talk with Malfoy for a few moments before they were finally seated. Hermione said nothing. She understood most of their dialogue, having studied French, but it seemed to her that neither Draco nor the maitre d' knew this. By their conversation, it seemed that Draco's family had been coming here for years.

Their table was by the window, and the garden was lit up. Hermione could hardly pull her eyes away from it to look at her menu. The menu itself had no prices, which told Hermione just how expensive this place was. You didn't come here unless you were ready to pay any price. She thought about the coins in her purse and hoped she had enough galleons to afford this.  
The menu was in French, English, Italian, and German. She supposed Queen's Mary Gardens was not the only entrance to this place, though perhaps the only one in England.

"Ready to order?" Draco asked.

Hermione nodded. "Scallops sound delicious."

"Seafood it is." Draco said, shutting his menu and beckoning the waiter.

"Vous avez choisi?" The waiter asked.

Draco opened his mouth to respond, but Herimone beat him to it. "Oui monsieur. Je vais prendre—"

As she ordered Draco narrowed his eyes, caught off guard. This was not according to plan.

He ordered his choice and when the waiter left, Draco barely concealed his scowl. "You speak French."

"I do." She remarked. "It comes in handy, don't you think?"

He sipped his wine, eyeing her. He had wanted to impress her, to show off his lineage and dazzle her with his French. But know-it-all Granger wouldn't be overcome that way. He had to change tactics.

"My family has been coming to this place for hundreds of years. We practically established it."

"That's nice." She commented, looking out the window at that damned garden again.

"It can be accessed through six different countries. The actual location we are in now is south of France."

Hermione looked at him then. "Wow, that is amazing."

"My family immigrated from these parts to England five generations ago. Even so, I still have family connections here."

"Have you visited here often? Not the restaurant, but this part of France?"

He smiled. She was obviously hooked. "Yes, I used to visit every summer with my mother and father. We have a villa not far from this restaurant actually."

"A villa? How nice." She smiled politely.

The food and wine was served, and Draco pushed forward the attack. "Perhaps after this I could even show it to you. It is one of my family's best pieces of property."

"Or another time," Hermione said, though another time meant that they'd have to go on a date again. She blushed at the thought. "It will be late after we finish dinner, after all."

_That was the point_, he thought intolerantly.

"It looks beautiful in the moonlight." He countered.

"I'm sure it does," she responded, really looking him in the eye now. Something was up. "But I couldn't go at such a late hour. I've got work in the morning. Besides, it could lead to things…"

Granger wouldn't be won without a fight. "Yes, it could lead to things. Is that a problem?"

She felt her face grow hot and she took some wine to collect her thoughts. He hadn't even _kissed_ her yet and he was already after that. Her heart sank. If this was the real reason he had asked her out, he could get that from another girl. Probably a lot of other girls. She had to put him straight.

"I am not going to your French villa tonight Draco, and for the record, I will not be _visiting your villa_ on any dates in the future. Do you understand me?"  
Her tone left little to misinterpret.

"Alright Granger, I admit tonight was pushing it, but how can you be so sure about _any future dates_?"

Even a week ago she would have been mortally embarrassed if someone had told her she would be having this conversation with him. Now she was just incensed. She had actually felt attracted to him, and she had let her feelings get involved. He was just looking for someone to shag.

"Let me be clear with you here. I've been raised with traditional morals, by parents who outlined sound reasons to me as a young woman, why saving myself would keep my heart, and body, healthy and intact. They proved to me that is was the logical course to take, in preventing any sort of transmitted deceases or infections, in keeping heartbreak and depression to a minimum, and insuring that I don't have children before I'm financially stable and ready."

He just stared at her. Only Granger could take an archaic tradition no one bothered with these days, and turn it into twisted sturdy reason. It had been the parents' fault. They had convinced her using tactics better than his tonight: logic. He had to regroup, retreat, and plan out another attack using logic. He couldn't battle this on the spot. He was too shell-shocked.

"I won't accept that Granger." He replied after a long silence. "I will forfeit for now, but I will not go on waiting, as you expect any man you date to do."

Well, as much as it hurt she hadn't been surprised. Of course he didn't want to date her now that sex was off the table. She half expected him to get up, throw his napkin on the table, and storm out.

Instead, he went on to say, "I will change your mind."

She looked up at his declaration. He was smiling but his eyes were fiery, almost in anger. He was declaring war on her in the most tempting way.

"You will not." She countered, finding it hard to breath.

"This isn't a game, Granger. I want to continue seeing you, but you can't expect a warm-blooded man to not want certain things. Let's date, and we'll see where it goes."

His reaction had been so different from Keeve's, who had told her it was all right, and who never pressed her, but instead cheated on her. Instead, Malfoy wanted to challenge her. This could be a terrible idea.

"I can't promise you anything. You know how I feel Draco."

He took her hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed her fingers. "That's okay. I'm confident we will eventually come to an agreement."

She felt the heat in her stomach and her body tingle at his touch, and she smiled weakly at him. She was so screwed.

* * *

**A/N**: If you did enjoy it please leave a review and let me know! :P (this fic will be 20 chapters, I'm almost finished writing!)

-rayko

* * *

posted 8/31/13


	13. Chances Are: It's in His Kiss

**Come Fly With Me**

**A/N: **"_Chances Are_" is a sweet song by Johnny Mathis**. **"_The Shoop Shoop Song (It's in His Kiss_)" is a catchy tune made popular by Betty Everett. Enjoy them together!

* * *

**Chances Are**: **It's in His Kiss**

**Chapter 13**

He hadn't kissed her. He had brushed his lips over her fingers, had talked of taking her back to his villa for the promise of much more, which she had declined of course, but at the end of the night when he insisted on escorting her back to her flat, he said goodnight at her door and tossing her a small smile, apparated away. Why hadn't he kissed her? Had he changed his mind after dessert?

She couldn't wait for Ginny to ring her in the morning. It was only quarter past ten, Ginny was probably still awake.

"'Lo?"

"Gin."

"Hermione Granger!"

"Yes, it's me."

"I know it's you, you dolt!" Yawn. "You are calling me after your date? Couldn't wait to spill the beans? So, out with it then."

"Gin…he didn't kiss me."

"Why? Did you push him away?"

"I'm being serious here. He didn't even _try_ to kiss me."

"Did you flirt? Did you joke? Was there _anything_ happening?"

"We didn't really flirt, and no joking either. We just talked."

"You talked him to death."

"Hey! He did more talking than I did."

"Well, he's been out of Azkaban, for what, three months? Chances are, he's already gotten his, ahem, _frustration_ taken care of by somebody. He must be in no hurry."

"No, he's definitely randy. He wanted to sleep with me tonight. I refused. But wait, you think he's already…been involved with someone since his release?"

"He asked you to shag him?!" Ginny completely missed Hermione's question.

"I don't think he's been with anyone, Ginny. Think about it. Azkaban drains you of your strength and emotions, so prisoners are left feeling like shells. He came out of there pretty hallow, I don't think he was looking to bonk someone then."

"Or maybe he was, to make himself feel more alive." Ginny countered.

_Not helping_, Hermione thought. "No, I treated him, along with the other two. They didn't feel the need to make themselves more alive. That's the worst thing about it. It didn't just take away their lives, it took away their desire to fight back, to _want_ to feel alive. He didn't care bout it. That's why he needed the potion, to care about living again."

"Fine. He didn't go fanny hunting when he got out, but it's been three months. For all you know…"

"Seriously Ginny, you are not helping. I will cross that bridge when I get to it. Right now, I need your help with this. I told him no, he said we should continue to date anyway, see if I would change my mind—"

"Unlikely," ginny snorted over the phone.

"Yea, and then at the end of the night he didn't kiss me goodbye."

"Maybe he's taking it slow, you know, since you are a slow one."

"If those are your pearls of wisdom, I'm going to bed."

"Sleep on it 'Moine. No one knows what goes on in that sexy ferret's brain."

oOo

It was strange not seeing him there anymore, sitting at his desk. She wondered if he had been serious about finding a new job, or if he was just going to loaf around. He certainly could afford to. She wasn't sure how or when he was going to contact her. She doubted he had a phone or knew what it was, and probably not email either. She wondered if she should expect an owl.

The rest of her workweek past without any drama. She found by Friday afternoon things were so slow, a very rare occurrence for her floor on St. Mungos, that she was flipping through a catalogue, looking at dresses she could wear to Luna's upcoming wedding.

"Busy at work, I take it." A voice drawled behind her.

Jumping from her seat, she swiveled around to find him by the door, wearing jeans and a button down.

"What are you doing after work?" He asked.

"Nothing." She breathed, standing up.

"So, I wanted to show you something."

She raised a brow. "Is this something located in your French villa?"

He smirked. "It could be, if you wanted it to. But no, actually, I wanted your opinion on something back at the manor."

Oh, that had surprised her. She had been there once, and it had been the worst memory of her life. She brushed the goose bumps that began to appear on her arms, and said, "You wanted my opinion on what?"

"Well, if you come with me I'll explain."

She looked at the clock. She had at least another forty-five minutes before her shift was over. She was both curious and terrified of Malfoy Manor. This could be a therapeutic experience for her, to help deal with the memory of Bellatrix.

"Alright…give me two minutes."

She would have to spend an extra hour at work next week to make up for this, but she didn't expect any unscheduled patients to come visit her now so it was permissible.

"Only house elves can apparate in and out of the manor, so we're going to Floo there."

They walked across the hospital to the Floo network on the ground floor.

Malfoy motioned for her to go first, but she shook her head. She did not want to be in that place alone, waiting for him to arrive. Even if they arrived seconds apart.

He took her cue and went first. She steeled herself and went second.

Coming out of a grey fireplace, she found herself in an ornately decorated drawing room. The furnishings, tables, armchairs, divan, even curtains, were gilded, and the rich wooden floors were carpeted with deep greens and bronzes. The windows were magnificently huge, so that the ceilings looked stories high.

"What a room." She breathed, turning around and around to take everything in.

"It's one of many. Too big for one family, let alone one man."

She curtailed her curiosity to peer at him instead.

"What is it you are planning to do with this place?"

That was his Granger, always one step ahead. "I want to turn it into a museum."

Her surprise must have shown on her face, because he said next, "you don't think it's a good idea."

"No, I think it's a great idea." She contradicted. "This place is huge. It would make for an excellent museum. A museum of what though?"

"Of old Wizarding families. For people to see a mansion built hundreds of years ago, and the tradition behind it. And, I think we could hold events here. People could rent out the hall for parties, or balls. Tours could be given. Even the dungeons, and main drawing room near the entrance _where...Riddle_ stationed himself, those could be shown as a history of the war."

Hermione remembered that dungeon, and even worse, that drawing room. She was thankful the Floo fireplace had been in this smaller room, and not the main one.

"Would it be safe as a museum though?" She ventured. "Your family must have lot of…dark artifacts stored within the walls."

Draco shrugged. "Father's secret collection is gone. Any artifacts that I was ever aware of here have been removed. The ministry did a full-scale search and seizure after I was put in Azkaban. My mother wrote about it to me. She didn't even try to stop them or mask anything. By that point she didn't care."

"Well, that's comforting," she said, looking around uneasily. It still felt ominous to her.

"I don't want to live here anymore. I even contemplated burning the whole thing down, once I could figure out a way to disengage the fireproof wards. But now I think it could be useful instead."

He opened the door and ushered her to follow him into the main hall.

She looked down the large passage and surprisingly didn't feel chilled by the place. "It would be a great museum for the war." She concurred.

"Will you follow me to the main drawing room?" He indicated in front of them.

She didn't want to, but she felt she should. "Okay."

He opened the double doors leading into it and she sucked in her breath and stepped inside.

It was all white. The walls, even the wooden floors, and all of the furniture. Everything had been painted white. Even the paintings on the wall had been painted over. It looked a lot brighter than when she had last been in here, withering on the dark floor, crying in pain…

"What happened?"

"I cleaned it for you." He smiled.

"Cleaned it? You…you erased the entire room."

"Exactly."

She could tell it was the same room, but she felt less threatened, and more stunned. This room, that she had had so many nightmares about, was gone. The space still existed here, but the gloom, the stains were washed away. It was essentially a different room.

"When I said I wanted to burn this place down, I really wanted to start with this room. But I figured you'd need to see it one more time, just to get some closure. And now I think it could be used for the museum, though of course it will look nothing like how it did when _He_ was using it."

Draco had destroyed its spirit, but the physical space was still there. Hermione had survived and the room hadn't, just like _she_ hadn't.

"Thank you." She choked out, closing her eyes.

He gave her a private moment by walking to the other end of the room, touching one of the painted walls. Then he turned back to her.

"Shall we see some other rooms?"

"That would be great."

He showed her the lowered kitchens in the back of the house, and the grand dining room.

"It's not just interesting as a history museum, like you said, there's lots of rooms here." She said

"Yea," he agreed. "Especially the grand hall, which could be rented out for parties. And for anyone interested in the manor itself, they could the explore grounds and even the rooms upstairs."

Hermione, feeling much better, smiled. "You've really put thought into this."

"Well, I decided that this would be my new job. Owning a museum."

"That's not really a job, you know." She said.

"Okay, owning and running a museum. I could hire a bunch of people to do all the tours and the clean up, and the bookings, and I could just walk around and supervise."

"Well, I suppose that works. But where will you live with the manor gone?"

"I've thought of building a newer, smaller, _brighter_ manor on the north side of this property."

"How big are the grounds here?" She laughed, disbelieving him.

"Big enough to build several of these manors. But the one I build will be half this size. _This_ is too big for even a family."

"You know even something half this size will take years to build."

"I know. Chances are I'll be renting a flat in London until it's ready, maybe something in Holborn."

Hermione's eyes widened. Holborn was where her ridiculously expensive flat was located.

"Strange you would pick that part of town." She mused.

"Well, I found myself there a lot these past months, visiting St. Mungo's. It seems like a nice area."

"I see."

"So, do you want to see my room?"

She rolled her eyes but let him take her upstairs anyway.

She had no desire to explore the intimate rooms of Lucius and Narcissa, and thankfully Draco did not offer them up for show. The fact that they had separate rooms already told her more than she wanted to know. Or perhaps it was tradition they were upholding to. Draco merely indicated which doors led to whose rooms, but they passed them without much thought. For a family of three, they had a lot of empty guestrooms. Finally at the end of the high ceilinged hall they came to his quarters.

"Ready for some magic?" He winked, grabbing hold of his handles.

"Shut up and show me." She said, and then blushed at the way her words sounded.

His grin grew, but he didn't respond. Instead he opened his room for her and they entered together.

She was bombarded with lot of silvers and greens.

"Tell me, did you decorate your room like this after you were sorted into Slytherin, or was this something you had around you since infanthood?"

"A bit of both." He replied, flopping onto his silver bed, hands behind his head. "My mother encouraged me to support Slytherin of course, so my rooms already had this colour scheme. She may have added to it after I began attending Hogwarts."

"And you father? He didn't support it?"

"He did…but he didn't support Hogwarts. He wanted me to go to Durmstrang, but my mother thought it would be too harsh for me."

She peered at his bookcase, impressed by his books. They were mostly non-fiction, textbooks, but a lot of them were not from Hogwarts.

"Oh, we've got a much grander library downstairs, if you're interested…which I know you are."

"You do?" Her eyes light up. A place as old as Malfoy Manor was bound to have the rarest wizard books in all the UK.

"Yea, I'll show it to you next. But first, take a seat." He patted the spot next to him.

"Nice try, but no thanks." She rolled her eyes.

"Come on Granger, I don't bite." He sat up, to prove a point.

She considered him. The man hadn't even kissed her on their first date. At this point, if he did try something, she should probably be grateful.

Shaking her head at him, she sat down on the satiny material, angling her body toward him. "Alright, happy?"

"Very." He purred, eyes on her lips.

They were sitting so close she could see her reflection in his eyes. How had he inched forward without her noticing? Her hand, resting on the bed, was snatched up by his, and he rubbed his thumb on the soft skin between her finger and thumb.

"Granger," he murmured, and then he closed the distance between them and brushed his lips over hers.

She felt a strange current pass between them, almost as if he had electrically shocked her with his touch. When she didn't stop him, he pressed his lips into hers harder. She pressed back. Okay, Granger was definitely going to let him do this. He slid his free hand around her waist, pulled her body against his, and really kissed her. His mouth implored hers to open, to taste, and he was kissing her; deeply, slowly.

She sighed and her fingers grasped his shirt sleeve.

It drove him wild. He quickened his slow, deep kisses into hot frantic ones. Over and over. She was swept into this kissing frenzy, where he seemed impatient for her, again and again. She felt herself falling into an oblivion where there was just her hands in his hair, his hands all over her body, and a ringing sound that would. Not. STOP.

She pulled away, looking at her purse on the floor by his bed. Her mobile was going mad. She dived for it, wondering who the hell wanted to speak to her bad enough to ring her up more than once. Draco seemed completely confused by the situation. He hadn't even noticed the ringing.

"Hullo?" She said, pulling the phone to her ear.

"Hermione, where are you? Ginny's gone into labour!"

"Harry? What? Into labour? So soon?"

"She's two weeks early, but the healer says it's time."

"You're at St. Mungo's now right? I'll be there as soon as I can."

She hung up and faced Draco.

"What is that?" He nodded to her phone.

"It's a muggle invention, though lately a lot of wizards have taken to using it. It's called a mobile."

"Like a telephone," Draco said. "I've seen those kind before, but this one isn't in a house attached to a wall."

"It's wireless." She explained, getting up from the bed. "Listen, I need to go. Ginny's in labour."

"Great timing." He said wryly.

"Look, let's talk about...what just happened later. I'll owl you when I'm done at the hospital."

"Of course." He got up from the bed, and helped her find her way to the Floo connected fireplace.

oOo

"'Moine, you're here!" Harry cried out at the sight of her. "I don't know what to do. She in there, screaming bloody murder and the mediwitch told me to go wait outside until you came. Ginny's been asking for you."

"Well, let's go in."

Ron was sitting by the door to her room, looking pale and shaken. When Hermione and Harry passed him, he said, "I tried to go in there to help and I couldn't do anything. I cannot believe mum did this over six times."

"Don't worry Ron, chances are Ginny won't have to do it that many times." Hermione laughed, patting him on the shoulder.

"She told me she's never doing this again," Harry blenched. "She said I wasn't allowed near her for the rest of our marriage."

They entered the room to find Ginny contracting and two mediwitches attending her. Mrs. Weasley was at her side, wiping her forehead and giving encouraging words.

At the sight of Hermione and Harry, Mrs. Weasley said "oh, good to see you Hermione dear. And Harry, there you are at last."

"Hello Mrs. Weasley. Has she dilated enough?" Hermione asked, getting into professional mode.

"Almost there."

Harry stood in the background, wondering why women had to go through this. Hermione caught his eye and she gestured for him to go stand by Ginny. He joined his wife and took her hand, though he came to regret it as she squeezed.

Soon Ginny was ready to deliver. They hadn't come up with magic to take away the pain of giving birth but they mercifully had potions that could quicken the process. Ginny did her motherly duty, and soon James Sirius Potter entered the world.

Hermione and Mrs. Weasley left the room to allow the young family some privacy. Outside Mr. Weasley was standing by Ron, drinking coffee from the cafeteria and holding a big bouquet of flowers. Ron still looked shaken.

"George and Angelina should be here soon, as well as Bill and Fleur and their brood." Mr. Weasley said pleasantly. Unfortunately Percy and Charlie were out of the country.

"She's delivered. It's a boy." Mrs. Weasley cried, throwing her arms around her husband.

"A boy." Ron repeated, and his father remarked "A boy! How splendid."

Soon the rest of the family arrived, and flowers and teddy bears where passed around to Ginny. She was resting but Harry took them happily, basking in fatherhood. Soon one of the mediwitches came forward, offering him a package that had just arrived: a big bouquet of chrysanthemums, the November flower, and a stuffed white ferret teddy.

Hermione beamed at the gift, and Harry laughed it off.

* * *

**A/N**: too much info about Ginny's delivery? I hope it wasn't too bad…

More importantly, they kissed. And Hermione felt the "wave". Let me explain: when I first met the love of my life, aka the guy I've been dating for almost six years now, we sat down by this pond at our university and had a long conversation about our pasts. During this time I felt this weird electric current go between us, it's hard to explain but there was this weird wave of energy connecting him and myself, something I never felt before. Later when we got together he told me he pinpointed that time we sat by the pond to the moment he realized how wonderful I was, and when I told him about the weird current thing, he said he had felt it too. So, it does exist…two souls finding each other :)

also, I was wrong. This story won't be 20 chapters. It's now 22.

-rayko

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posted 9/6/13


	14. Quando Quando Quando

**Come Fly With Me**

**A/N:** "_Tell me when will you be mine? Tell me Quando, Quando, Quando?_" (Quando is Portuguese/Italian for "when"). What a great song! And a great euphuism for… ;) **"**Quando Quando Quando" sung by Michael Bublé and Nelly Furtado is an excellent version.

This one's pure fluff. Enjoy.

* * *

**Quando Quando Quando**

**Chapter 14**

"A _ferret_ though, really?" Hermione chuckled, in between Draco's repeated attacks.

"What? Don't you find them sexy?" He smirked, pushing her back into the couch cushions.

She tried to roll her eyes at him but it was difficult to do with his tongue in her mouth. She pushed him off, straightening her blouse. "A teddy bear would have sufficed. Thankfully Harry just thought you were being funny, and didn't link it to me."

"What's so wrong if he knew we were seeing each other?" He asked, his hands fiddling with the buttons on her top. She kept on buttoning them closed, as he kept trying to undo them.

"Nothing, eventually. I just need to ease him—and Ron—into it. Old grudges are hard to shake loose. I was thinking at Luna's wedding next week, if you came with me, we could tell them there."

"Is this your way of asking me to go to her wedding?" He grinned, giving up on her buttons and moving back up to capture her face in his hands.

"If you wanted to." She said, staring into his eyes.

He has such beautiful grey eyes, and he knew it. That was the problem with dating Malfoy. He used everything he had to his advantage to seduce her. First he had invited her over to finally get a chance to see his library.

She had missed the opportunity three days ago, when Ginny gave birth. Then she had spent the weekend helping Mrs. Weasley help Ginny. She had cooed over the baby, and had almost no time to herself. She went to work that Monday determined to make up for leaving early. Her last appointment with Emalia had been good. Emalia reported feeling good about her job, and one of her coworkers had even asked her out. Relationships of any kind were the best things for a person recovering from Azkaban. Whether it was family, friends, or a romantic interest, it always did the person good. She and Hermione made plans to go out for lunch that day, and decided on going out to lunch every Monday that followed. After lunch Hermione saw a myriad of patients, and it was past seven before she finally hanged up her white coat, and shut the lights to her office out.

Getting home she found Luna and Draco in front of the telly.

"What—?" She began, but closed her mouth. No, she rather not know why he was here.

"Hiya 'Moine, Draco stopped by for some company." Luna answered for her anyway, as Draco gave her the lazy wave.

_I'll bet he did. _"Have you eaten?" She asked both of them.

Luna replied in the affirmative and Draco the negative. "Great, me neither. What can we make?"

She looked into her fridge. Because she had spent the weekend helping Ginny and Harry, she hadn't had time to go grocery shopping. Luna never went grocery shopping, though she always gave Hermione money for it. The inside of her fridge resembled Crabbe and Goyle's heads: almost completely empty, and not enough of anything to put something decent together.

Draco was suddenly behind her, peering over her shoulder. "Right then, my place?"

"What, have you gotten your flat already?"

"No, I'll be doing that later this week. I meant Malfoy Manor."

It was almost eight, on a work night. She shook her head.

"Come on, I'll whip us something up in the kitchens. Since I freed all the house elves, I'm the only one cooking in there these days."

She knew he had freed them but it still made her heart pang to hear it. "Did you say you would cook for us?"

He smiled. She was close to caving in. "Sure, I can make a decent sandwich, even boil pasta. Anyway, didn't you want to see my library? Now would be the time…"

"Well," she looked back into her fridge. It was a wasteland in white. "Alright, give me a moment to change out of my work clothes."

Actually he thought she looked sexy in her white oxford shirt and cream slacks, but he stood aside and let her pass. They said goodbye to Luna and went downstairs to use the apartment's Floo Network.

True to his word, when they got to his place, he took her to the kitchens and managed to find some spaghetti, a jar of tomato sauce, and a package of frozen beef. She performed a thawing spell on the meat as he heated up the sauce, and put the spaghetti to boil. He threw the meat into the sauce, cut it up with a wooden spoon, and within fifteen minutes his simple diner was served. Two bowls of spaghetti in meat sauce; probably the least fancy thing ever made in those kitchens.

"It's simple, but it works." Hermione was grateful for anything to fill her grumbling stomach.

They sat at the kitchen counter table, where food was always prepared and never eaten, and enjoyed their meal. His parents would have been scandalized to see him eating here, like this, but he didn't care. Their ways were of the old world, and this was a new one. He was ready to adapt.

Afterwards they washed back the dinner with some wine and vanilla ice cream he had in his freezer. "Thankfully this stuff was enchanted to stay fresh, otherwise it would have gone bad years ago."

They had barely finished their dessert when Hermione was out of her seat, pulling his arm and asking for the library. This was fine with him because it was where he had planned out his next attack.

In the library Hermione squealed, something he hadn't thought her capable of, her eyes moving from one spot to the next, unable to take everything in but desperately trying. Alright, he agreed, his family's library was pretty astounding. It went up two stories, so there were moving ladders with wheels on every wall. The walls themselves were lined with bookcases top to bottom. If the walls were painted no one would ever know what colour they were. All that could be seen were brown shelves, and books of mostly sombre shades. Away from the walls, the centre of the room had a comfortable looking divan and two green armchairs across from it. A long wooden coffee table with gilded designs separated the divan from the chairs.

"I don't even know where to start!" She clapped her hands together in pure glee.

It was like being a child at Honeydukes, he thought. She couldn't have been happier. He felt his heart lurch for her, but put his hand to his chest and told himself to stay in control. Now was not the time for swooning over her. Now was the time to test her physical feelings for him. Not to mention test her control.

She grabbed a book from the shelf and plopped herself down in one of the armchairs. That would not do.

"What are you reading? Show me the cover." He asked, sitting on the divan.

She showed it to him.

"I'm nearsighted." He lied. "Can you come here?"

She sighed, feeling impatient to look at a book she was sure was a rare copy of one of Merlin's apprentice's descendents, _Working Elfesfire Magic_, but this was Draco's home and his book, so maybe if she played nice he would let her borrow it!

"Alright, here you are." She stuck the book in his face. He took it from her grasp and set it down on the table. "Give me a moment. You can borrow the blasted book if it makes you feel better."

Instantly appeased, she sat next to him and indicated she was listening.

The problem was he had nothing to say. He was just trying to get her to sit close to him, and now she was. With stage one completed, stage two of the attack was next:

He began with a question to distract her. "So, how's Potter and his wife and their baby doing?"

It was the right question. Her face lit up again and she began to describe her weekend with the budding family. He was listening, or half listening, but more importantly he was leaning into her so that she unconsciously leaned back into the divan, and she certainly didn't notice his arm going around her shoulders and his other hand circling her waist as she talked. He was just that smooth.

"And did they like my gift?" He murmured, practically leaning over her.

She was on the verge of questioning him about his little teddy joke when she became aware. Oh no, how had he trapped her like this without her even seeing it? She was unused to the ways of a man like him, but this was bordering on gross negligence on her part. She should have known, should have calculated when he invited her over, that this was where he was planning on taking them.

She bit her lower lip, wondering if she should stop him or let him get on with it. He felt a shot of desire course through him at the sight of her biting that lip. He wanted to bite it too now. He pressed his body into hers, and she sank back onto the divan, overwhelmed by his charge. With one last smug look of victory thrown her way, he captured her lips, basking in the taste of conquest. He had her under him, and he wasn't going to let her go. Not that he was willing to take her by force. No, he would just convince her with his mouth and hands that it was what she wanted as well.

She would not be won over so easily though. She pulled her lips from his, saying "You know, as pleased as I am that you sent them the gift, did you have to send them _that_?"

He ignored her, moving his mouth to her throat. The moans she emitted from his kisses then told him that he had found a sweet spot. He was getting aroused just by the sounds she was making. He attacked her throat more fervently, and Hermione thought she was going to slip out of control.

She could feel his, ahem, _trouser snake_ pressing into her leg and she had to stop him before it was too late. She gave him a little push, and he looked up, meeting her eyes. Both sets of eyes were clouded over in lust, but neither had lost this battle yet.

"Why did you choose a _ferret_?" She said when she had his attention

He chose to answer by seizing her mouth with his again.

"A _ferret_ though, really?" Hermione chuckled, in between Draco's repeated attacks on her mouth.

"What? Don't you find them sexy?" He smirked, pushing her back into the couch cushions.

After some more tussling she had finally gotten his attention. She had asked him to Luna's wedding.

"Next week? Sure, sounds like fun."

"Great." She pulled herself up and dodged his groping hands. "I'm going home. You said I could borrow this right?" She grabbed her coveted book and dashed to the door.

He laughed, chasing after her, and caught her in the hallway, trapping her between his arms and the wall.

"Tell me Granger, when will you give in to me?"

She smiled coyly. "Most likely never. But the kissing I can always take."

He lowered his head to oblige but she ducked under his arm to escape.

"Just not tonight!" She called as she ran for the drawing room to the Floo network.

He shook his head, admitting defeat, but for some reason he was grinning.

"Goodnight Granger." He called, and turned to walk away in the other direction.

* * *

**A/N**: This one was fun to write. I hope I satisfied some of you for now. Did I? Let me know! (Is my grammar _that_ bad?)

Also, this is a T rated fic for now but eventually…

* * *

posted 9/12/13


	15. Can't Take My Eyes off of You

**Come Fly With Me**

**A/N:** "Can't Take My Eyes off of You" by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons is a classic I'm sure you all know. Though, long before I knew the original version, Heath Leger's from "10 Things I Hate about You" had been the favourite of my teenage heart. A millions hearts out to him.

* * *

**Can't Take My Eyes off of You**

**Chapter 15**

Ginny could tell immediately that something was up with Hermione. The girl just couldn't keep that smile off her face. At first she thought it was the baby. Sitting cosily in an up-market London flat that a famous Quidditch player and an auror could afford, Hermione held the drowsy James, rocking him softly while Ginny recounted the weekly events with her week-and-a-half-year-old.

"And of course Mum has been badgering us about getting a proper house since before we even had James. She thinks this place is too small and the city itself isn't 'fitting' for raising children."

"Mmmm," Hermione replied vaguely, gazing down at the baby, and…was she _humming_?

"You know, I said to mum, _if you really feel that way why don't you just take James off my hands_? It would give me a lot more free time, right 'Moine?"

"Yea."

"And then I told Harry I wanted a divorce."

"Mmmmm."

"Hermione Granger!"

Hermione looked up. Ginny was looking at her, hands squared at her hips. What had she said?

"Are you even listening to me?" Ginny demanded.

"I'm sorry, I just got distracted." Hermione chuckled.

"Fancy having a baby of your own, do you?"

"Well sure, one day." Hermione shrugged.

"It's not the baby, is it? Something else has got you off with the fairies, humming to yourself and unable to do anything but smile."

"I'm just happy for you Gin, and Harry."

"Oh stuff and nonsense. I know you're happy for us. Something else has got you chuffed to bits."

Hermione didn't answer, but instead stopped rocking the now sleeping baby, and stood up to put him in his cradle.

Ginny followed. "I bet it has something to do with that fit bloke you've been seeing. Go on, you haven't shared anything with me since your first date."

"There's nothing to share." Hermione insisted, turning away from the crib.

"Bollocks."

Ginny kept trying to catch her friend's eye, but Hermione dodged her, moving back to the kitchen to grab herself a glass of water.

"Spill."

They locked eyes and the grin exploded on Hermione's face.

"Alright, alright. So I've seen him a couple of times since that night. We haven't gone on any other dates, just met up for a spell."

"Aha! You've been getting off with him! I know that look."

Hermione tried to protest, but her blush gave her way.

"Ah, so…is he any good?"

"Gin! I haven't gone _quite_ that far with him. Just a bit of harmless snogging."

"Snogging? What and no groping? You're copping off with him and he didn't even go for the knockers?"

"Gin, we are _not_ having this discussion."

"So he did?" Ginny laughed. "Hermione you can be such a prude. Women do normally discuss these things with their best amie."

"I've never asked you to give me the details on you and Harry." Though Ginny had always seemed keen on giving them, Hermione mused.

"Well he is like a brother to you, so I've restrained myself a little."

"Yes, a _little_." Hermione emphasized. "I suppose I can tell you a little bit. Yes, we have gotten…frisky. He's more randy than Keeve was. He's tried, and failed, several times to grope me under the blouse or under the trousers, but I've been careful to stop him. If he's touching me, it's over the clothing."

"'Moine, you've got his hands chained. The poor chap's going to go loony."

"So he tells me."

"You really are not going to have a romp with him?"

"No, Gin! You know I not."

"But you're seeing him. A lot. Are you bringing him to Luna's wedding on Saturday?"

"Yes, we're going together."

"Should I prepare Harry for it in advance?"

Hermione thought a moment. "No, I'll ease him and Ron into it at the wedding. They wouldn't dare cause a fight and ruin the celebration. Besides, they've already had dinner with him once, and no one was hexed."

"That's because he was your patient then, not your boyfriend."

"I'm sure it will be fine."

oOo

Luna's wedding was in four days, but she didn't appear perturbed by this. The wedding was to take place in her father's backyard, and the guest list was under fifty. Besides Neville's grandmother, a handful of distant relations on his side were coming, along with some Gryffindor chums like Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. Luna had invited one Ravenclaw girl with whom she seemed to have been friends, and a few fellow enchantists from her department. The extended Lovegood family would of course also be there. Unlike the last wedding Hermione attended, there would be no bridesmaids, no flower girls, and not even any flowers. The Lovegoods had a style of their own, and Neville, like a good groom, was only too happy to do things her way.

"Do you need help with any last minute things for the wedding?" Hermione offered that evening, while fixing them dinner.

Luna was sitting on the floor in the living room, resting against the foot of the sofa. She was reading a magazine Hermione didn't recognize.

"Everything's been taken care of. I'm actually more concerned about you, Hermione."

"Me?"

"Well yes. I know you've been looking to downscale since you found out about Neville and I. Have you found anything suitable?"

"A couple of options." She said, not adding that those one-bedroom flats cost just as much as the two-bedroom her and Luna had been splitting rent on. She was beginning to think she'd have to look outside the area, though this place was within walking distance to St. Mungos and all her favourite muggle grocery shops.

"I'm relieved. This part of town is not cheap."

It was a problem that was bothering Hermione all week at work. She could afford the flat for now, but economically speaking it was pricy when she knew she could be getting something smaller for peanuts outside of Holborn. She liked her neighbourhood, and had grown attached to the size of the place, but for one person it didn't make sense. She would pay rent for another month and end the contact, hopefully having found a new place by then.

She sat at her desk at work the next day, mulling over this point between patient appointments, when her phone went off in her bag. By habit she switched it off when she arrived at work, so she was embarrassed to find she had forgotten to that day. Ignoring it would be the correct thing to do, but it was ten minutes before her next patient would come, so she felt she could indulge the caller just this once.

The number was an unfamiliar one but local, so she answered it.

"Hello?"

"Granger, it's Draco."

She gaped. "Draco, you have a mobile?"

"Yes."

"Since when?"

"Since you told me they were popular among wizards. I had a go with it. And it's been dead useful for contacting some consultants to get this museum idea off the ground."

"Why couldn't you just owl them? Where did you even get the mobile from?"

"There's a Diagon Alley shop that sells them now, _Muggle Thingamajigs._ I had someone show me how to use it, and he also found me a consultation company, number and all. Owling is just _slower_, isn't it?

"Well, yes, it is. Hold on a moment, how did you get _my_ number?"

She could just see the self-satisfied look on his face. "Granger, didn't I tell you, they did everything for me. Show them a couple galleons and shop clerks will bow for you if you want."

"Draco!"

"So, for this wedding in three days, have you gotten your dress yet?"

"Yes, I was just going to wear something from my closest."

"Granger, Granger, Granger…you need a new dress."

"I do not."

"You'll be going to the wedding with _me_. You need to look your best."

"Sod off Malfoy." She made to hang up but his voice got louder, stopping her.

"Hang about! I didn't mean it as an insult. I want you to have a beautiful new dress because you deserve the best. You're with me and I want the best for my girlfriend."

"Oh, are we officially boyfriend and girlfriend? I thought we were just 'seeing' each other."

"Hermione, I do not nearly 'see' as much as you as I want to."

The blood rushed to her face and she left her heart skip, both by his rare use of her first name, and by his sexual innuendo.

"Alright," She said, pressing her phone into her hot cheek. "I'll buy a new dress before the wedding. I'll go after work tonight before the shops close."

She heard him sigh. "You are missing the point, Granger. I'm going to purchase the dress. I'll pick you up after work. When will you be done? I know the time varies everyday."

"That's quite alright, Draco. I can buy my own dress."

"Let's not argue. We can get your dress and have dinner in Cobbswallow."

Hermione cringed. _Cobbswallow Lane_, a wizard's shopping district hidden within posh Oxford Street, was where one purchased luxuries the average witch couldn't afford. A dress there would cost a month's worth of rent.

"I'd rather go somewhere more reasonably priced."

"What does it matter? I'll be buying it for you."

"Oh, and am I to suppose that you'll also be the one choosing the dress?"

"Naturally."

"No."

"Granger."

"No."

"…I'll see you after work. We'll decide then."

She was tempted to hang up on him, but instead she told him when she would be done, and politely ended the call.

oOo

How had she ended up here, in this posh and overpriced designer shop, allowing Draco usher her into a dressing room with dresses that were _way_ to revealing. At least he hadn't picked anything tight.

Having a rich boyfriend did not mean she had a right to use his money, even if he was offering it. Then again, she hadn't chosen any of these dresses she was trying on, so she supposed he was really using the money for himself. The thought vexed her. She should have some say in what she wore to Luna's wedding. When Draco married her, was he going to insist on picking out her wedding dress too, for Merlin's sake?!

"Oh no, I did not just go there." She muttered to herself, shaking her head.

"Do you have the first one on yet? Do you need my help getting it on?" He called through the curtain.

"That's quite alright Mr. Malfoy. I'dbe happy to help Ms. Granger if she needs," Hermione heard the female attendant assure him.

"Spoilsport." He grinned.

Oh sweet hippogriffs, what had she gotten herself into?

"I'm alright," she called out to them. "I'll be ready in a moment."

The first dress was low-cut and black satin with dainty straps, which looked more like lingerie.

"No." She said loudly, viewing herself in the mirror.

The curtain ripped open and the attendant let out a small protest. "Mr. Malfoy, really!"

But he didn't care. If Granger thought she wasn't going to show him all of these dresses on her body, she had more mental issues than mourning myrtle. This was a perk of being a boyfriend, and she wasn't going to deny his eyes.

"Granger, you have legs." He said, admiring the extra curves he usually couldn't see.

Her mouth was hanging open. Had he really just opened the curtain? And in front of the attendant no less! Did he have no scruples? What if she had been naked? Had he even considered that? Had he been hoping for that?

"The satin does look like a nightgown though," he frowned. "Too bad, because your breasts look ace."

"Draco Malfoy!" She screeched, pushing him back and grabbing for the curtain.

She closed it tight, blushing furiously. "Don't you dare open this curtain again! I will open it when I'm ready."

"You're going to have to show me each dress if you want me to behave."

In a huff she took the satin dress off and went on to the next dress. She was going to find the most expensive dress in the store and make him pay just to piss him off.

_That wouldn't piss him off. He has the money for it, no doubt_, she reasoned with herself.

In the end she didn't like any of his choices, and though she begrudgingly showed them to him, and those some of them got him quite animated, she felt they weren't for her. He let her have a round of choosing but her selections weren't any better. She either picked too modestly for Draco's standards, or the colour and style didn't look right. In the end they compromised on something the attendant had chosen, with a bit of show but modest enough that she wouldn't feel completely on display.

"Remind me never buy a dress with you again, Granger." He said as they left the store, kissing the top of her head.

She tucked her arm in his and laughed. "I did try to tell you that I would be fine on my own."

"No. I don't think so. I'll have to buy you dresses when you aren't there."

"Not happening Malfoy." She laughed.

They walked down Cobbswallow Lane, taking in the designer stores, and Draco offered to buy her some shoes to go with her dress. Hermione put her foot down, insisting she had the perfect pair and besides, they didn't want to spend another hour shopping, did they?

"Well, I am hungry." He agreed.

"Me too. Dinner?"

"Dinner."

They found a trendy Spanish tapas bar, and dined to their hearts content. There was a guitarist strumming along in the background. With good food, music and atmosphere, Hermione was suddenly in a euphoric mood. Looking across the table at his elegant manner of eating, she thought, _yes we do have our differences. And he can be a lot to take, but look at us now. Maybe we could make it as a couple. _

After dinner he suggested a stroll, and she thought it would be fun to slip out of Cobbswallowand onto Oxford street, for some muggle world surroundings. He agreed to her proposal, and in the light chill of the late November air, they left the wizarding side.

"This is a nice part of town," He noted, looking at the many shops and lights that lit the street.

"Oh yes, Oxford Street is a great place for shopping. Lots of overpriced designer shops here that you would like, I'm sure." She teased.

"I think my mother used to shop here as well as Cobbswallow_. _She loved a good garment, wizard designed or not."

Hermione had a hard time picturing Narcissa Malfoy strolling through a muggle shopping district, but took his word for it.

They walked in no particular direction for a quarter of an hour, Hermione's arm tucked into his, while he carried her bag with his other. Soon they came upon some benches off to the side, and he motioned for them to sit.

Hermione was still euphoric. After their dinner they had gone for a romantic stroll, enjoying each other's company, and in muggle town no less! He had been content to walk through and didn't seem troubled by all the muggles. He had really accepted the new world ways, and her.

He sat her down on a bench and she just looked at him, her bliss bubbling over. She felt giddy.

"You will look so beautiful at that wedding," He murmured, drawing her close to him.

She sighed and he took her face in his hand.

"I think we make a grand couple, don't you?" He continued, his lips almost brushing hers.

She nodded.

"Good." He closed the gap and kissed her, chasing the cool night air away.

His heat was intoxicating. She kissed him back, savouring the warmth and the pressure he built up within her, something Keeve or Ron had never come close to doing. Her encouragement egged him on, and he grasped her body, feeling her curves through her coat. He wanted more, and he had to restrain himself from apparating them away to Malfoy Manor on the spot. This woman would be the death of him. He was too far gone to care.

He was manhandling her in public, and she was doing nothing to stop him! _And Ginny says his hands are chained_, she thought wryly.

Her only consolation was that this was Oxford Street, a part of muggle London. Her mind could hardly register any more reasoning though, not when he was kissing her _like that_.

"'Moine!" Someone yelped.

She tore her lips from Draco's at the abrupt sound of her name.

Ron Weasley was standing feet from them, jaw open, look of utter horror stitched across his face.

His eyes soon settled on Draco. "Malfoy, you tosser!"

"Get stuffed Weasley." Draco replied, not relinquishing his hold on Hermione.

"Ron! Draco! Both of you stop." She said, getting up from the bench and ignoring Draco's protests.

"Look Ron, I had planned on telling you at Luna's wedding, but now's as good time as ever I suppose."

"Tell me what? That you've been…snogging Malfoy? How long has this arrangement been going on?"

"It's more than just snogging mate. We're a couple." Draco drawled lazily, leaning back again the bench.

_Your attitude's not helping_, Hermione thought, turning back to Ron. "Yes, we're a couple. Draco _has_ changed since our school days Ron, and I really do have strong feelings for him. Can you try and accept this?"

Like a fish out of water, Ron's mouth sputtered open a few times before he was able to speak. Hermione had just admitted to having _feelings_ for Malfoy.

"You'll have to explain to me how this happened 'Moine." He said, holding up a hand. "Not now…just soon. Of course I only want you to be happy…if he can make you happy."

By his tone it was obvious Ron didn't think Draco could do it, but Hermione was thankful he was at least trying to be civil.

"Thank you Ron. I'll see you at Luna's wedding, okay?"

"Yea, see you Herimone. And…Malfoy."

"Goodye Weasley."

"Bye Ron."

* * *

**A/N: **a word on the language/spelling I use. Sometimes it's British, sometimes it's American. For example, sometimes I'll write "flat" and sometimes I'll say "apartment"; sometimes I'll put "call" and sometimes "ring". I always spell with an extra "u". I'm Canadian, I can't help but be torn between the two. Hope that clears things up.

* * *

posted 9/16/13


	16. Save the Last Dance for Me

** Come Fly With Me**

**A/N:** We're on a roll with Bublé for the next three chapters, so I hope you like him. Here he is with "Save the Last Dance for Me" (originally sung by Ben E. King with The Drifters). It's a fun song for dancing and singing, especially at a reception! Speaking of, anyone in the mood for a wedding? I hope so…. J

**Warning: **The fic is rated T. To be safe I'm going to rate this chapter **T+**. If you don't like (slight) graphic details, please don't read it.

* * *

**Save the Last Dance for Me**

**Chapter 16**

Luna and Neville emerged into the giant white canopy covering the Lovegood's open garden, to the sound of applause. The last outdoor wedding reception Hermione had been to was Bill and Fleur's. The style of canopy and hominess was certainly similar, though the added Lovegood flair was poignantly different.

"I cannot believe they have an ice sculpture of…whatever that thing is supposed to be." Ginny remarked, pointing to the wonky shaped block of ice sitting metres away.

Hermione bit down her laugh. "I believe it's a Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

"How could you possibly know that? They don't exist." Harry asked.

"Because Luna told me her father insisted on having it for the wedding. He wanted mythical creatures represented to stress the need to see _beyond the proven to the possible_."

"Xenophilius Lovegood is something else." Ron said.

"And there are Dirigible Plums in the centre of every table." Hermione added.

"Oh are those what these things are?" Harry reached over to pick one up. "I thought they were radishes."

"Remember Luna used to wear these on her ears? The Lovegoods think they _enhance the ability to accept the extraordinary_."

They sat there, looking around in wonder at the many odd features mingled in with the seemingly ordinary nuptial celebration.

"Here you go Granger," a voice said in her ear.

Draco had just returned from getting them drinks. He sat down and immediately the atmosphere turned awkward. The wedding ceremony earlier hadn't been too bad. Draco had arrived there after everyone else, and just in time. Luna was brought forward by her father, and handed to Neville. No one said a word, and Hermione felt relieved. Ron and Harry hadn't even looked in the direction of Malfoy and Ginny merely gave a small nod. After the ceremony everyone was encouraged to move to the back of the house where the reception would soon begin. Luna and Neville disappeared for photos. When the group found a table together that's when the awkwardness started.

Harry looked confused as to why Draco was there. Ginny had told him nothing and apparently neither had Ron. Ron was shooting Draco furtive looks but said nothing. Ginny struck up a conversation with Draco, in which he was clearly surprised, but not at all unpleasant or snarky.

Neither Harry nor Ron seemed interesting in talking, and Hermione was getting apprehensive. She interrupted Ginny to ask Draco to get her a drink. He hadn't expected independent Granger to ask him for that sort of errand, but he was happy to do it. As soon as he was out of earshot, Hermione mentally prepared to clarify the relationship to her best friends, but Ron beat her to it.

"Alright Hermione, now's the time to explain how you two became an item."

Harry blenched. "He's _with_ you?"

"Yes Harry. Draco is my boyfriend. We've been going out since before James was born. It happened right before James was born, actually."

"_How_ did it happen?" Ron insisted.

"Well we were working together for quite some time, as you know. One thing led to another. I was attracted to him, he was attracted to me," she shrugged. "It was a natural occurrence."

"How serious are the two of you? It's been only a few weeks." Harry reflected.

"Yes, it has. We aren't serious enough for you to start picking out wedding gifts. You trust my judgment, don't you Harry? Ron?"

"Yes." Said Harry, just as Ron spat out "No."

"Ron." Ginny threatened.

"Oh all right, yea, of course I trust you 'Moine. It's _him_ I'm concerned about."

"But you can see that he's not the same Draco Malfoy from Hogwarts." Ginny came to Hermione's defense.

"No, he isn't. Still, there's something so arrogant about him…"

"Yea, I have to agree with Ron there. He's a bit too confident, especially for an ex-prisoner of Azkaban coming from a shamed family in the eyes of the wizarding world."

"His father was shamed." Hermione said, "but that doesn't mean he has to be too. Give him a chance."

"Alright," Harry decided. Ron nodded slowly but said nothing.

A beat of silence passed, then Ginny said. "Would you look at how they've decorated the space. I thought it was pretty mundane, but actually they have quite a lot of subtly odd stuff."

"Such as the vibrant yellow table clothes with kneazles at the ends?" Ron smiled.

"Well, You know how the Lovegoods feel about the colour yellow." Hermione said.

They had pointed out a few more interesting finds before Draco returned to the table, and though she had been hoping for the air to clear, it looked like awkwardness had settled in for the night.

"You do look wonderful 'Moine," Ron said, sometime later, as they moved on the dance floor.

When the dancing had finally commenced, Draco extended his hand but Ron beat him to it by asking aloud for Hermione to dance. She gave her date an apologetic look and stood up with Ron. Ginny and Harry went out to the dance floor, leaving a very sour Draco behind.

His eyes narrowed like a very refined snake, as he watched his girlfriend dance with her ex-boyfriend. He was trying not to think of Granger as a possession but damn it all she was _his_. That another wizard would dare cut him off to his woman was a grave insult to the Malfoy name. His father had been the same, very possessive of his mother and very jealous of other men's looks. Draco was not his father, but he had trouble controlling his earlier impulse to refuse to allow Hermione to dance with Ron, and even challenge him to a duel if Ron persisted. Of course Hermione would have blown up over it, saying it was her right to accept or decline, that she wasn't his property, and Merlin knows what else. He knew she was right but…it was still hard to control these feelings. Even now, he felt an urge to go and snatch her by the arm, threatening Ron with his wand to never touch her again. He had behaved himself instead, holding back, wondering how long it would take to completely erase his father from within.

"Thank you Ron," Hermione beamed, as they danced to the slow music.

She was wearing the dress Draco had bought her. It was a capped-sleeve sweetheart floor-length gown, deep wine red in colour and cut low in the back. The silhouette hugged her curves straight down, with a bit of a flare at the bottom. It had the right amount of bosom to keep Draco, and other males, entertained, while not making her feel overly self-conscious.

Ron himself looked smart in black dress robes, as did Harry and Draco. There seemed to be a theme of gentlemen in black going on this season. They almost looked like tuxedoes.

"So, you never told me: what were you doing on Oxford Street that night? You're not one to be in the muggle part of London." She asked.

Ron's freckles began to disappear under his blush. "How do you know? I happen to like visiting muggle parts of town now and then."

"Yes, but that's a very popular shopping district, and I know you do not like shopping."

He sighed, said nothing, and the music stopped. "I'm seeing someone, okay? A witch who lives nearby. We had gone for dinner there; thought it might be fun eating among the muggles, and then I walked her home and went on my way."

"That's wonderful Ron."

"Yeah, well it's still early days, but we'll see where it goes. Anyway, would you like another round?"

A new song was starting up. "No, let's go back for a rest."

She wanted to probe him for more, but felt she had been leave it for now. He didn't seem too eager to share, and if it turned into anything serious she would find out more in time.

They joined Draco at the table, and he remarked. "Your friend Ginny looks in good shape for someone who just gave birth two weeks ago."

"She was a bit of a dainty girl to begin with." Hermione said. "She wasn't even planning on coming to the wedding because she was going to be having James around now, but since he came early, she felt up to coming."

"She's bonkers." Ron said. "She's hasn't had a full night's rest in ages she tells me, how can she have the energy to come to a wedding?"

"I think having a night off looking after a baby would give her some energy back." Draco said.

"Yea, and mum is all to happy to take James off her hands." Ron laughed.

Hermione was ecstatic that the two of them were conversing. Things were looking up.

"So Granger shall we—"

"Ah, I'm pooped." Ginny said, suddenly flopping into her chair, her flowy pear-green dress spilling over the sides. Harry followed behind. "Sorry Harry, I'm tired. Hermione, dance the next song with him and I'll see if I'm up to dancing again later."

Hermione obliged, standing up and offering her hand to Harry. Draco was seething. Was he ever going to get a chance to dance with her?

Brother and sister Weasel starting talking and Draco tried to calm his inner beast down when Neville and Luna came to their table.

"We're making the rounds to thank all the guests." Neville said. "Thank you Ron, Ginny, and er, Malfoy, for coming to our wedding. We were happy you could join us on our special day."

"It was our pleasure. The wedding was beautiful." Ginny said.

Ron and Draco nodded, and Neville was satisfied. He smiled lovingly at his new wife, and Luna added. "Oh, you still have all your Dirigible Plums. You should eat them, they're quite lucky. Or of course you can carry them in your pockets for longer lasting luck."

"We'll be sure to do that. Thanks Luna." Ginny barely held back her snort.

"Alright, we must move on, but thank you, again." Neville took Luna by the arm and they proceeded to the next table.

"Ron, why didn't you bring your new girlfriend with you tonight?" Ginny said abruptly, turning to Ron.

His freckles disappeared again. "What! How do you—?"

"Oh please, you've got that self-satisfied look on your face you get whenever you're thinking of a girlfriend."

Draco smirked, liking Ginny's brass attitude.

"I—I—I've just started seeing her, okay? It would have been too soon to invite her."

"Rubbish. Hermione's been dating Draco for barely three weeks and he's here."

"Well, some men move fast." Ron said, giving Draco a pointed look.

"Not nearly as fast as I wish Weasley, believe me."

Ron was gobsmacked but Ginny was all ears. "It's maddening, isn't it? Hermione's little hang-up."

"Oh you know about it, do you?"

"Naturally. She is my best mate."

"So she really hasn't…?"

"Can we not talk about this?" Ron gestured about wildly, trying to plug his ears.

They ignored him.

"No, she hasn't."

"Who hasn't what?" Harry asked, joining them that moment.

"Harry, where's Hermione?" Ginny asked, looking behind him.

"Oh, Dean asked her to dance."

Another man had stepped in while he had been left behind. Draco was seriously starting to get pissed off. How many blokes here wanted to dance with her? And how was he going to get rid of them all without upsetting Granger?

He caught the eye of Weasley's sister and she nodded to him. "Draco, let's dance."

Harry and Ron exchanged a look of surprise but said nothing.

Silently he assented, offering her his hand. She accepted and off they went.

"Dean's an old boyfriend." Ginny said, as they began to dance.

"And…?" Draco pressed.

"I'll cut in." She took lead of their dance, moving past the outlandish dancing of Xenophilius Lovegood, dressed in vivacious sun tones, towards Granger and the nameless Gryffindor.

Draco had never been taught to dance with a woman leading, so he was a little thrown off trying to follow her movements, but he managed himself okay. Soon they were next to Granger.

"Dean, hello." Ginny said, releasing her hold on Draco.

"Hi there Ginny," Dean responded, and Hermione locked eyes with Draco.

"Sorry to cut in 'Moine," Ginny continued, "but I'd like to have a chat with an old friend."

Dean released Hermione and Ginny took her place. The two danced away and Hermione and Draco faced off.

He offered his hand. "May I have the last dance?"

"The last dance? Draco, it's not over yet. It'll be at least another hour."

"I know. What I meant was, can I have the rest of your dances for the night?"

She rolled her eyes. "Alright Mr. Jealous, let's dance."

She let him lead, he was thankful.

Soon he responded to her gibe. "I resent that."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You were staring daggers at Ron, Harry, and Dean because you weren't jealous?"

"Granger," he replied, his voice like silk. "Malfoys do not become jealous. They simply get what they want."

"Oh? Is that right?" She arched an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm dancing with you, aren't I?"

She huffed, annoyed by his conceit. "That can be altered _very_ easily."

He strengthened his hold on her back, pulling her flush against him. "Why would you go and do something neither of us wants?"

She blushed, embarrassed by the way her body responded to his touch and the feel of the lines of his body pressed into hers. He was gaining too much control over her, and she enjoyed it too much for her own good.

"Draco, not in public, please." She said, pulling away.

He released her by a fraction. She was tantalizingly close, but distant enough for common decency.

"How about after?" He murmured, his voice thick.

"No." She replied vehemently.

He could almost taste the passion in her voice, it was so dense, and it only enflamed his desire. Still, he had to be patient with her. He hadn't expected to leave this reception with satisfying results, and neither had she, which is why both of them had blank minds when they stumbled into her flat hours later, a tangle of limbs and clothes. He had her by the buttocks, kissing her and trying to undo her dress with his free hand. She was running her hands up and down his front, relieving in the feel of the muscles under his shirt. His outer dress robe had been dislodged the moment they apparated into her apartment, and the shoes had been discarded at the same time.

Fifteen minutes earlier, they had retired from dancing and had instead left the canopy for a moonlit stroll. By then Ginny had already decided she needed to rest, and Harry had taken her home. Ron had been dancing with someone.

One thing led to another and Hermione had been the one to apparate them away, caught up in the relinquishing heat building within her. She didn't even realize when he had succeeded in freeing her from her gown, or notice his pleased cry at the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. The dress had one built in, after all. She did come to her senses when she felt the warmth of his skin again hers, and her mind snapped to attention. They were going way to far.

She opened her eyes, pulling her lips from the curve of his ear. His mouth was at her breast, his shirt was off, but he still had his pants on. She was in her knickers and nothing else! They were lying down on her couch. How had this escalated so fast?

"Draco, get off me," she said, pushing him away.

He blinked, coming from a daze. "What's wrong?"

"This is too far!" she cried, covering her chest with her hands.

She had never done this with anyone before. It was _very_ dangerous territory!

"It's okay," he said, sitting up and releasing his hold on her. The gears in his brain started to move. "Hermione, this isn't a shag, it's just a bit of fooling around."

His use of her first name would not detour her. "It leads to sex."

"It doesn't have to. Look, what was your reasoning again? You don't want to get infected; you don't want to break your heart. Well, I'm not looking to break your heart love, and I won't infect you, _trust me_. And there are ways to prevent conception. Besides, as long as we keep our trousers on, those things won't happen anyway. It's called foreplay."

He was trying to get her to agree to one thing, so that she'd have to keep giving in until there was nothing left to give. She wouldn't have it.

"No Draco, I'm not _fooling around_ with you tonight." She pulled her feet off the couch and stood up, searching for her dress. He offered her his shirt. She took it, avoiding his eyes.

"Look, since Luna's cleared out you can take her bed if you want to. Let's sleep this off and talk in the morning when we're thinking more clearly."

"Yeah, okay." He said.

The was an awkward silence followed by Draco's voice, "wait, you're going to be living in this flat alone now. I hadn't realized that."

"I'll be giving it up in a month's time, if I can find something cheaper in the area."

"Why? I could just move in. I was meaning to look for a flat in this area, remember? They'll begin turning Malfoy Manor into a museum next month, so I'll need a place to stay."

"That would be a terrible area. What happened tonight could repeat itself if we were living together."

_That's the point_, he thought. What he said was, "well there are two bedrooms. We would sleep separately."

"That wouldn't stop you."

He looked at her until she met his eyes. "If you tell me to stop, I stop. Don't you trust me?"

She did. Still, it seemed like egging on temptation.

"Why don't we have a week's trial? If I can prove to you that I will behave myself, then you'll see it could work."

She knew it was a bad idea but the thought of having him stay here and let her keep the flat she was so fond up was alluring. Also, it didn't help that he was still shirtless and the hard lines of his body were distracting her from proper attention.

"…against my better judgement, alright Draco. We'll do a trial."

"Grand."

"If it works out, we'll have to split the cost of the flat 50/50, okay?" She wouldn't have him trying to pay her share.

He smiled. "What's the point? I acquired this whole complex last week. I'll essentially be paying myself. No, we'll just forgo rent altogether from now on Granger."

"What! Malfoy!"

* * *

**A/N**: If it becomes any more graphic I will change the rating to M on this story, so be warned if you are underage.

One reviewer mentioned something I wanted to address. I state Hermione can barely afford a two-bedroom flat in Holborn London because my research led me to believe it was an expensive part of the city (I guess all of London is expensive, like New York or Tokyo), so even though she is a Healer with a good salary I would imagine a spacious two-person flat in a swanky part of London would seem like an unnecessary cost to a prudent girl like her (If anyone is from Holborn or any part of London they can please correct me if I'm wrong about it being expensive!)

Thanks!

* * *

9/17/13


	17. Fever: The Way You Look Tonight

**Come Fly With Me**

**A/N:** **"**Fever" by Peggy Lee is a damn good sexy song ;) "The Way You Look Tonight" was done beautifully by Michael Bublé. And of course Frank Sinatra's version is a beloved classic. Take your pick!

**warning**: The story's been changed to** M** because of the next couple of chapters.

* * *

**Fever**:** The Way You Look Tonight**

**Chapter 17**

"So, how are things?" Emalia asked, adding sugar to her milk tea.

_How were things?_ _Such a vague question_, Hermione mused. In terms of work, they were busier than ever. December always had an increase in accidents, so potion remedies were in heavy demand. As Head Potions Healer at St. Mungos, Hermione had her hands full and found herself working longer hours every day.

"Work is pretty demanding. How about you Ema?"

"Oh, of course it's the same for me. With Christmas a few days away the shops are packed from open till close. We can't seem to stock books fast enough. I was thankful I could get today off." She laughed. "But I didn't just mean work. How's your social life?"

It was funny Emalia was asking Hermione about her social life, when almost two months ago it had been Hermione questioning _her_ about the same thing, patient to healer. The change in Emalia was so evident it was like speaking to a completely different person. It wasn't just the way she spoke, or the relaxed, secure aura she gave off. She carried herself much better now. Her pallid face was fair, not sickly grey but a snowy white with a hint of rose in the right places, make-up or natural Hermione couldn't tell. Her eyes were warmer, and her smile was attractive. She was a very pretty girl now. Even the clothes she wore had more colour to them, and she wore a playful barrette in her hair. She now looked younger than her twenty-seven years.

"Tell me about your social life first," Hermione said. "I remember at your final appointment with me there was mention of a coworker who asked you out, but you never told me how that went."

"Oh, well…that." Emalia blushed, looking down at her drink.

Hermione could feel Ema's discomfort. "You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to. After all, I'm not your healer anymore. That's partly why I didn't asked sooner. Let me answer your question instead."

"No, it's alright." Emalia said. "I want us to be good friends, and girls share these things with each other. It just didn't turn out the way I had expected."

"Was it that bad?"

Emalia was blunt. "He never showed up for _our_ date. I waited at the little Italian café for over an hour, wondering if I had gotten the time or place wrong, when finally I decided to leave. On my way out I heard his voice, and I thought, finally he's here. But he was laughing with some other woman, sitting on the other side of the café. The prat had made plans with someone else, and forgotten all about me, and at the same café too!"

"What an arse!"

"So I left the café and found myself wondering down the street crying. I felt like such a dolt for agreeing to go out with him. Then someone stopped me, asked me if I was all right. I just started crying more, and he said '_Blimey_' and took me aside, conjured up a handkerchief, and handed it to me."

"That was nice of the man."

"When I finally collected myself, I explained to him I had just come from a bad first date, and I was quite all right now. He didn't want to leave me alone though, and offered to take me for a warm drink to feel better. There was something familiar about him, and I liked the care he had shown me, so I agreed."

"Does this have a happy ending?" Hermione smiled.

Emalia ducked her eyes modestly, but she looked happy. "We talked for sometime at this quaint teashop, and then he suddenly said, '_you're name is Emalia right_?' I was so surprised, because I hadn't given him my name. He explained that we had met before, at your flat Hermione, months ago when you had invited me to your dinner party. Then I realized why he was so familiar. We had met before, and he was the minister of magic. I had completely forgotten him."

"Ron!" Hermione dropped the biscuit she had been nibbling on.

"Yes, Ron. You two are school chums, right? So, we talked for a bit longer, than he asked if my bad experience that evening had turned me off first dates in general. I said not quite, and he asked me if I would be interested in having dinner with him that weekend. He is a very busy wizard, but once in a while he has free time for it."

"You are dating my friend Ron?" Hermione needed the clarification.

"Well it's only been a month since we started, and he's been so busy we've actually only been on three dates, but yes."

"That's brilliant Ema," Hermione said after a pause. "He is a good man. I hope it works out."

"Thanks. So, tell me about you."

After mentally noting to track Ron down over this new developed, Hermione focused on Ema's question. What was there to tell? Almost a month ago she had foolishly agreed to let Draco live with her for week's trial. He had been so smug about it the next morning, that is until she told him they wouldn't start the trial until Malfoy Manor began its conversion into a museum. Why should he move in right away when his manor was still in limbo? She wanted the extra time to prepare herself for what was bound to be a big cock-up.

She had almost taken back her consent in letting him have his week, but then he bribed her with his library. It would be a private museum soon, but he had promised her that she would have her own unique pass, which would gain her access into the library and allow her to even borrow from it. No one else would have such a luxury. She couldn't say no to that!

He became impatient for the transformation to begin and sooner than originally planned, the consulters brought in their men to turn his manor around. Draco had just moved into her flat that very week; they were already on day three and she had spent most of her time at home frustrated to no end.

It began on day one. He had shown up in the morning right before she left for work, declaring that he had been kicked out of his own home and needed a place to stay for the night. He had a small trunk with him and she figured it would be all right if he set up in the spare bedroom, so she left him to it, and headed off to what was sure to be another busy day at the hospital.

Feeling tired and worn to the bone, she returned late that evening and found him watching television in his underwear and a white t-shirt.

"Malfoy!" She said, dropping her purse on the floor and staring at him.

"What?" he said, getting up.

"Stop right there," She said, holding up her hand to cover her vision from his very short boxer shorts.  
"Is something wrong?" He put his hands on his hips. It wasn't helping.

"Where are your trousers?" She cried, trying to look anywhere but _there_.

He looked down. "I was just getting comfortable."

"You have got to wear trousers, or at least pyjama bottoms outside of your bedroom."

He arched his brow, folding his arms. "I don't see what the problem is. I've seen you in your knickers, after all. In fact it's something I'd love to see again."

"Malfoy!" She cursed. "Go put on a pair of jeans or something, or so help me Merlin, I will hex you out of this flat faster than a Firebolt."

He obliged her, and Hermione went to her room to change, trying to scrub the mental image out of her head.

The following morning he opened the bathroom to find Hermione with her towel wrapped around her middle, bent over and applying lotion to her legs.

"Nice legs Granger."

"Get out! And try knocking first next time!"

He closed the door, imagining not her provoking legs but the view of her behind bent over. Now that had been a worthy site.

Despite her annoyance from the morning, Hermione came home later that evening, made them dinner, and then proceeded to tangle herself up with him on her couch. The television was showing a classic mofia movie, and they completely neglected it. Malfoy had his hands in hidden places, and by the sounds she was making he didn't think Hermione minded. She was on top of him for a change, pressing her lovely padded bits into his body and exploring the curves of his abdomen, her hands under his shirt.

They had been dating for almost two months and moving painfully slow, but moments like these were invaluable to him. There was something about his fiery witch, from her confidence at knowing more than the average wizard, her loyalty to her friends, her dedication to helping others, and her obvious concern for those weaker than her, to her flustered countenance when he did something inappropriate to her in public or said something sexual, the sounds she made when he kissed her, the way her curly hair got wild every time they tussled: he couldn't get enough of her.

"Draco," she sighed, between kisses. "We should stop. You have your hand up my skirt."

He responded with a grunt and did anything but stop, enjoying the groan she emitted as he stroked her in places he shouldn't.

"Oh Draco…"

"Hermioneeeee."

"Draco, ohhhh…."

He could barely contain himself. The sound of her voice did things to him. By morning both of them would be covered in love bites. If she didn't stop him, he would press on.

He went for the buttons of her blouse with his unoccupied hand and had it off in record time. The last two times he had taken it off her, he had been too slow and she noticed, stopping him in his tracks. This time she was worlds away. He traced her breast with his palm, and she pushed his shirt up, impatient for the feeling of his skin on hers. He froze. This was a first.

With deft fingers he reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, pulling it away from her arms. She pulled back to let him take the offending garment away, and then her steamy eyes caught his. He gave her a lazy smile and she stilled, breaking eye contact and jumping off him.

"No, no no. Draco!" She huffed, picking her bra up.

He pulled himself up and rested on his elbows, giving her a quizzical look. "I thought foreplay was okay."

"This is too much." She cried, grabbing her blouse and shrugging it on. "You were touching me _there_. I could feel your finger inside me."

_Fingers_, he mentally corrected, but didn't bother to say out loud. Her obvious discomfort in discussing sexual acts was endearing. She really was a prude, he thought. It made her adorable. Especially when he knew how much she had liked it.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked, though he knew the answer.

She blushed. "No…"

"Did it feel good?"

She didn't answer, instead going to the bathroom to brush out her hair. It always turned into a mess once Draco started to kiss her.

Yes it had felt good. Too good. She had even blanked out on what was happening, just living in that feeling. She had wanted more, so _much_ more. He gave her such a fever when he touched her, she didn't know if she could stick to her own resolution, and that scared her.

So that next day at lunch, when Ema had asked her how things where going, socially wise, well Hermione couldn't exactly tell her about _that_.

"I suppose things are going okay." Hermione ventured at last. "Ginny and Harry are doing well. I saw them and baby James last week. He's a month old and getting cuter every time I see him. I won't be seeing them for Christmas. They'll be at the Burrow, that's Ron's parents' home, but we'll have a little holiday dinner on the 26th."

"That's nice. And Draco? How's he?" Emalia pressed.

"He's…there."

"I see."

oOo

"So Ron's told me he'll be introducing his girlfriend to the family on Christmas," Ginny said, putting a pair of broom clippers back on the shelf.

"That should be interesting," Hermione said neutrally.

She hadn't had a chance to confront Ron about Emalia yet, and she didn't feel right giving his secret away.

"It's a shame you'll be spending the entire Christmas day with your family. Any chance you could leave early and pop by the Burrow?"

"Not likely."

It was two days before Christmas, and they were finishing up their gift shopping.

"I don't think Harry needs a new one of these yet," Ginny frowned, inspecting a jar of broom polish.

"Well, I think you've got enough Quidditch supplies at your place as it is." Hermione laughed.

Ginny sighed. That was certainly true.

"Alright, let me just pay for this and then we'll be off to another shop."

A little later in Madam Milkin's shop Ginny posed, "you never did tell me, how's Draco living with you working out?"

"Don't ask." Hermione said, her back to Ginny, while she pretended to closely inspect some lavender hued fabric.

Ginny stepped between the fabric and her friend. "'Moine, are you hiding something from me?"

_How does she do that_?

"No. It's just…" There was no point in lying with Ginny on your tail. "It's been a little exasperating living with him. He's been there for only five days, and sometimes I just want to box his ears off."

"Well, he's got two more days right? His last night is Christmas?"

"Yes," Hermione affirmed. "I've invited him to my parents house for Christmas, since he'll be alone otherwise. After Christmas he'll be back at the manor. The workmen have vacation from Christmas to New Years so no one will be working on his property then."

"And after the New Year starts?"

"He'll have to find an alternative place to live. I can not have him living with me, it's not safe."

Ginny laughed. "Not safe? Why, does he bite?"

Wryly Hermione thought, _unfortunately he does. _

oOo

It was Christmas Eve and Hermione was thankful to have the next three days off work. She wrapped presents for her parents, for her friends who she would see the day after Christmas, baked a spice cake for the family gathering, and did all this while keeping Draco at bay. At one point she had kicked him out of her flat, using the excuse that she had to wrap his gift, but really it was just to get him out of her hair. He needed more attention than the average grown wizard. Being an only child herself, she understood a bit of his feelings, but Draco was far beyond spoiled. She wasn't about to continue his parent's blunder.

When he returned later with gingerbread cookies and a bottle of wine, he was forgiven. He even offered to make supper in her place. She knew he didn't know how to cook, but was touched by the offer nonetheless. She asked him to assist her in making it and together they managed to decorate a whole chicken with carrots, potatoes, celery, pepper, garlic, an onion, and a lemon. They roasted it in her oven and as the flat filled with the smell of dinner, they drank the wine and looked longingly at the cookies.

Some Christmas shows were playing on the telly, and Draco, having never experienced television before coming to Hermione's flat, was now introduced to some of the most beloved holiday movies of the muggle world.

They snuggled on the couch, Hermione tucked into his side, Draco with his arm around her, playing with a loose curl at her shoulder. There was no snow outside but it was cold, and their foggy window told them to be thankful they were inside.

Before the movie they were watching was over, the oven binged and Hermione got up to retrieve the roast chicken. The aroma brought Draco off the couch and to the kitchen counter top.

"Give me a moment to cut some slices," Hermione laughed, pushing him back.

He took some plates and cutlery from the cupboards and set them out. Then he poured them more wine just as Hermione put down a platter filled with slices of chicken and vegetables.

"Bon Appétit." She said.

They ate and savoured every bite, and more importantly savoured each other's company.

"You woman, can cook." Draco said, taking another swig of wine.

"What? After living here for six days and having my cooking every night, you only discover that _now_?"

"I was holding out on judgment to make sure," He smiled. "You can't be good at everything, can you?"

"I'm not great at sports." She laughed. "Or divination, which isn't a real subject, and even my defense spells need work."

"You seem like a witch who can handle herself in a fight."

She smiled. "I'm good at things that can be perfected through study, but things that require a natural rhythm or an inborn ability, like flying a broom, I've always had trouble with."

"You mean like using your instincts, or feeling instead of thinking?"

"Sort of…I guess that could be it."

"You're wrong Granger," he drawled, leaning back in his chair. "I've seen you let go and allow your instincts to take over, and it's grand."

Her cheeks reddened, but she said nothing, sipping her wine and enjoying the meal. After dinner they indulged on the gingerbread cookies, then retired back to the couch for a cuddle and a show. However, it was hard for her to concentrate with him murmuring into her ear.

He would say things like, "I love the feeling of your hair between my fingers", or "the way you look tonight has me melting Granger". Was it the wine or was it purely him, she wasn't sure. They had both certainly drunk quite a bit of it, but it only made her feel warm and dreamy.

Soon he was solely paying attention to her neck, and she moaned at the feeling of his moist lips on her pulse. They began to fondle each other and exchange kisses, and Draco said into her mouth, "Hermione…the way you look tonight…I want to ravish you."

Then the kissing became more urgent, and they tumbled off the couch and onto the rug, bumping the coffee table back. She had to stop this before the fever overtook her.

"Hermioneeee." Draco groaned, already at her bra.

"Draco…oh, we should stop this." She panted, locking her forehead with his.

She had done this to him almost every night, and now was the time to finally challenge her.

"Give me your reasons for not wanting to have sex." He breathed.

She blinked. "What?"

"Your reasons. No sex. Before marriage."

Oh. It was hard for her to think at a time like this, but if it would help him, and her, gain control over themselves, then she would endeavor to explain.

"I don't want to have my heart broken."

"Granger, if I were to break up with you right now, walk out that door, would I break your heart?"

She looked him in the eyes. The eyes of the man she loved. "Yes."

"Then what difference does shagging make?"

Oh. But then there was "if we have sex I could become pregnant."

He shook his head. "As your parents are only muggle they don't know about wizard contraceptives and I guess you never bothered to look into it, surprising as you are a bookworm. There was spells that can be cast beforehand…my father told me about them before he was carted off to jail at the end of my fifth year."

She frowned. "Well, actually, as a Potions Healer I am aware of the contraceptive potion we prescribed out to woman monthly…"

He flicked her lightly on the head. "Then you already know it's possible to prevent pregnancy among wizards."

"Alright, and what about infection and diseases," Hermione bit her lip. This was an awkward topic to broach. She had never asked him how many partners he had had, but now was the time.

He sighed, looking away from her and saying in a small voice, "you don't have to worry about that."

"How do you know? Have you been tested recently? Draco, this is important to me." She pressed.

"Hermione…just trust me. I couldn't possibly have gotten something from someone else."

"I work at St. Mungo's, Draco. I've heard the stories of people saying the same thing, and then they find out the ugly truth."

He was deliberating something, she could tell. He wanted to tell her something but he didn't. What was going on?

"Think," he said at last. "How old was I went they took me into Azkaban?"

"Seventeen." She said.

"And before Azkaban, where was I?"

"In your manor with your family?"

"Sure, but even a month before that."

"Hogwarts."

"Right. I was a student at Hogwarts. How much shagging do you think I did there?"

She flushed, not wanting to answer the question. "How should I know what you did in the Slytherin dormitories?"

He shook his head, looking sadly at her. "You are such a goody-two shoes, I bet you didn't even know this: Hogwarts is enchanted with many spells, many wards, to prevent students from doing certain things. For example, did you know that boys cannot enter the girls' dormitories, but girls can enter the boys'?"

"Yes, actually I did know that."

"Well, here's another fun one. Students cannot have a hump. They can't. Oh, they can fool around. I had some good times in sixth year with Astoria Greengrass, she was a year younger. She even showed me her knockers and let me fondle them—"

"Draco!"

"Right, but as soon as my hands strayed into her knickers, or her hands strayed into my trousers, we were deflected back by some invisible force. Same thing happened if you tried using your mouth. Of course, we even experimented with genital-to-genital contact, and it propelled me back so far I nearly hit the wall."

Hermione sat there god-smacked, both revolted by his admission to fooling around with a Slytherin girl whose name she now knew, ugh, and by the fact that they kept on trying to mess with whatever ward had been set up to prevent them from doing it.

"So you never had sex at Hogwarts." She said bluntly.

"Not without trying. Of course, by seventh year I was scared out of my arse, caught up in a war and pretending to be something I wasn't, and my hormones weren't the biggest priority on my mind then."

"So I'm guessing the summers away from Hogwarts weren't any different."

"With Voldemort in my home? No, my mind was on one thing only. I wanted to get away from him, and save my mother."

"And then you went to Azkaban for five years…wait. Draco, you're a vir—"

He clapped his hand over her mouth. "I'd prefer if you didn't say that. Back to the point, I've got nothing vile to pass onto you. So, what was your next point?"

Her mind was a jumble. He had never…but then how could he possibly be so damn good at touching and coaxing her? Was it a natural inborn ability like what they had talked of earlier? Or was it because she loved him so much, and she was so inexperienced with these things, that his imperfect touches felt like pure magic to her. His moves were smooth and intoxicating, but perhaps they felt that way because he was her first, and he made her skin feel alive because she wanted him to.

She had to focus now. He was beating down her reasons with logic, and she had nothing left.

Finally, she looked him squarely in the eye and admitted, "I'm scared. I don't know if I can do it."

He pulled her into his arms and spoke gently. "I won't make you do anything you're uncomfortable with, but I think I've seen enough of your passion to know that once you're in the mood, you won't be scared."

He pulled away slightly and kissed her to prove a point. She was shivering for reasons she could not fathom. He stroked her back and ignored the bra, which he had tried to remove earlier. He needed to take this slow or she would never fully open up to him. He felt the impatient snake hissing within him to take her, his possession, won after months of battle. But he fought it down, and fought back the heat of his arousal. She needed to be enticed first.

He kissed her a few more times, patted her head, and then pulled away.

"I think we should turn in early tonight Granger."

She nodded, not looking the least bit drowsy but still dealing with this strange panic of the unknown.

He stood up and offered his hand to help her up.

"I'll see you in the morning." Draco pecked her cheek and turned to his room.

She stood there and watched his retreat, her apprehension evaporating and disappointed settling in.

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**A/N: **Please don't kill/flame/hex/hate me for making him a….you know. I thought long and hard about it (pun intended). Most fanfics out there have him sexing around as early as fifth year, meanwhile Harry is in a weird teenage rage, and Ron is too shy to ask Hermione out, etc (I'm talking canon here for the trio). I think people like to make him more sexed up then he is, especially when you actually read the books and there's none of that going on. Still, I get it, the average teen these days is fooling around at the very least…especially at sixteen or seventeen. But then there's a war! I don't think Draco would be off boffing girls while the Dark Lord is giving him this impossible task to kill Dumbledore, and he's frightened out of his mind, and then next year Old Snake-breath is living at his house, yikes. Draco is scared, not horny. Then I put him in prison...where all his feelings are sucked out. So, I think it's logical for him to be a capital V. I know we like him in fanfic as an experienced playboy, but I was going for realistic here: please forgive me if you think otherwise.

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9/22/13 (happy belated birthday Hermione)


	18. Moondance

**Come Fly With Me**

**A/N:** I love Bublé's version of "Moondance". It's lively, fun to sing along to, and classy! Also, it's a song all about… "_Well I wanna make love to you tonight_" and "_anytime I touch you, you just tremble inside"_ ;)

Because this chapter takes place during Christmas, I will nominate a second song: "Santa Baby" by Eartha Kitt, is a glamorous, classy, sexy song, which unfortunately has been reduced to sounding cheesy/dirty by more modern versions. Listen to the original; it's by far the best.

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**Moondance**

**Chapter 18**

"Pet, would you pass the carrots?"

"Hmmm?" Hermione said, turning her face away from Draco.

He was playing footsies with her under the table and it was bloody distracting.

"The carrots, lovebug." Her dad repeated.

"Oh, sure thing dad."

"So, Draco, tell me, how did you and Hermione meet?" Mrs. Granger asked pleasantly.

"At school."

"Oh, Hogwarts, yes. Were you in Gryffindor too then?"

Draco's surprise must have shown because Mrs. Granger added, "Now you mustn't think us totally ignorant. She's told us all about the houses, and classes, and teachers and such."

_How much has she told them about my house_, he thought dryly. "I wasn't in Gryffindor. I was in Slytherin."

"Oh my," Mrs. Granger said, and Mr. Granger's eyes darted to his daughter.

_Apparently she's told them enough_.

"They weren't all bad." Hermione interjected. "I just made it seem that way because our houses were rivals. Always pitted against each other in competitions, we were almost encouraged to dislike each other."

"A school tradition that doesn't promote student harmony." Her father noted.

"That it doesn't." Draco said.

They continued to eat the Christmas lunch Hermione's mother had prepared, and soon her father struck up a new topic.

"So, what line of work are you in my boy?"

Draco took a moment to consider. "At the moment, I have a project in the works."

"Oh?" Her father pressed.

"He's a curator." Hermione butt in.

"Well, no, I was planning on hiring a curator. That would make me the director and CEO."

"Director and CEO of what exactly?" Mrs. Granger sounded surprised.

"Draco comes from a very wealthy old wizarding family with substantial grounds and a distinguished manor. He's turning it into a private museum."

"Oh, that sounds splendid dear. When will it be open? I would love to take the tour." Mrs. Granger said.

"They've just begun work on it. They're putting the most valuable artefacts of the house in glass casings, cutting off parts of the manor with velvet rope posts, setting up wards, measuring rooms, and Merlin knows what else. Last week they were asking if I would prefer visitors to owl in requests for tickets, or if they could be purchased at the door."

"Requesting tickets in advance sounds better. Otherwise they'll have to build some obtrusive block at your entrance for a clerk." Hermione's father mused.

"Yes, exactly. I was adamant that they not change or add anything to the character of the house."

"Do you have any paintings that will be put on display?" Her mother asked.

"A few, most of my ancestors." The recent paintings of his parents and grandparents had all been burned when he first moved back into the house. He had been a little unstable then.

"You'll be making a pretty profit out of that." Mr. Granger nodded approvingly. "Though it sounds like you don't need the extra bit of pocket change."

"Not really." He admitted unabashedly.

Her parents couldn't help but be impressed by his obvious wealth. His eating manners were also impeccable and he seemed polite enough. They could plainly see that their daughter was head-over-heels by the secretive looks she and Draco exchanged when they thought her parents weren't looking.

After lunch they exchanged presents. Hermione and Draco had exchanged presents that morning in the privacy of her flat. After the discomfiture of the night before, the air had cleared, and they were both looking forward to another day together.

Hermione had presented him with a very fancy writing set; silver-tipped quill, top-notch scroll paper, and magic dry quality ink. Draco had gone a little overboard, in Hermione's opinion, by presenting her with a silver necklace with a sizable emerald jewel, and matching emerald earrings. He also had his Slytherin tie tucked in there as a joke, commenting that he thought she should try it on sometime.

_In your twisted dreams_, she had laughed.

Now with her parents, she gave them what they enjoyed best: new things to discover. She had visited Emalia at Flourish & Blotts two days ago with Ginny, and picked up some of the latest publications on wizard history, just to give her parents something new to ponder over. They loved reading books detailing unknown events that very often linked to events in the muggle world. She also presented them with a yearly's prescription to _The_ _Daily Prophet_, just so they could keep up.

They gave her an old rare muggle book Draco had never heard of but made Hermione's eyes light up, and a new kettle for her flat, as she had previously complained about the rust on her current one.

For Draco Mrs. Granger had nipped last minute to the shops to pick up something suitable for a young man: a cosy warm jumper.

Draco had given Hermione's parents a beautiful silver bracelet and brand name watch.

The expense of the gift was felt, and they were embarrassed. Though Mr. Granger later reasoned to his wife, if the man owns a museum then he has this kind of money to throw away. They shouldn't feel too bad about it.

Hermione was impressed by how well Draco got on with her parents. It wasn't just her desire for him to get along with them, but it was the fact that they were muggles, and ten years ago he would have sneered at simply being within eyesight of one. She was so relieved.

oOo

"You did well today Draco," Hermione said later that night, as they swayed to the wireless playing in her apartment.

"Didn't know I was being graded." He countered, pulling her a fraction closer.

She stroked the back of his hair. "Seriously, spending the day with muggles didn't bother you?"

He shrugged. "I know my father would spit in my face if he knew but…I've just let go of trying to be him. I stopped wanting to be like him by the time I was seventeen."

"But it can't be that easy to change something you grew up knowing."

"You can change your mind by meeting things head on Granger. Perhaps I still carry some prejudices, but every time I see a muggle or speak with them, I find myself surprised and I re-evaluate my thoughts."

"Truly?" She looked him deep in his grey eyes.

"The truth? I didn't cringe from your parents when I met them today, but I did feel superior to them. I can't help it. I may always feel better than muggles, and you may have to accept that. But I still wanted to make a good impression on them, for your sake."

"Maybe the more you associate with them, the less different they will feel from wizards."

"The fact that they know about our world helps." He agreed. "I can't promise you anything Granger. I didn't feel disgusted by them, still, I cannot accept muggles as equal to wizards, not even your parents."

She sighed. It was an improvement, but not ideal. "I thought perhaps the act of freeing your house elves from Malfoy Manor spoke of your more tolerant views."

He looked away from her, but didn't stop their dance. "I didn't free them for their sake. I wanted to be alone, so I got rid of any living thing in that place. That's also why I burnt all the portraits of my parents and grandparents, and anyone I had personally known."

She was let down by this, but she took it in stride. He had been brainwashed in his upbringing and it would take effort and time to mend his mind. She would be patient, because she loved him.

They swayed to the slow music in silence for while longer, and then he began to kiss her.

Why did his kisses send a spiralling heat down her body every damn time?

"Hermione," he whispered, pulling back and making her lips pucker at the sudden loss of his. "I love you."

She offered him a dazzling smile and leaned in to reclaim his lips. He accepted the token but shortened it and gave her a questioning look.

"Don't be daft Malfoy," she replied cheekily. "Of course I love you too. In fact, you had better move in with me permanently."

He tightened his embrace and lifted her up into the air, trapping her between his arms and his chest. She kissed him with such craze that he staggered back, and she wrapped her legs around him to keep from falling. He stroked her rump, feeling the curves he leered at when she wasn't paying attention.

"Draco," she moaned into his ear, and then assaulted his neck.

The feeling was too much. His legs buckled and he dashed to the couch before they toppled to the floor. Barely in time they collapsed in a tangle of limbs on the lumpy pillows and he looked into the eyes of a witch in fever. He could taste her desire in the air and his trousers became painfully tight.

She took his hand and pressed it into her breast, as if to encourage him. He didn't need any encouragement. He needed to know she wasn't going to stop him halfway though.

"Can we…try this?" He grunted, his voice more hoarse than usual.

She blinked up at him, hardly registering his words. Couldn't the man just belt up and touch her already? "Oh Merlin Draco! _Yesssss_."

He pulled his wand from his pocket, muttered something Hermione could hardly make out, and tossed his wand to the ground. Right, that was enough thinking for the night!

He scooped her back into his arms and carried her to her bedroom, where mercifully the door was open.

On her bed he went straight for her dress, undoing the top buttons and unlooping her belt. She pulled at his jumper, impatient for it to be gone. Then they were down to their underclothes, and exploring each other. Hermione shivered as Draco traced kisses down her throat to tops of her breasts, and then over her stomach. He moved to undo her bra, and after with full view of her nipples, gave each a long suckle and palm stroke, making her shudder. She traced his contours with her hands, learning all his intimate angles, and revelling in the graceful line of his naked back. He groaned at her touch, and he moved his hand between her thighs, pressing his palm into her clothed wet folds. Her body instinctively rocked into his palm, and she felt the heat building.

"Draco…" She moaned, her hand dipping into the back of his boxers and grasping his cheek.

He tugged her knickers down and lifted her legs to relieve her of them. Then he stationed himself between her knees, marvelling in the sight of a fully nude Granger. He wasn't sure if he could hold back for much longer. Wasting no time, he stroked her exposed folds with his fingers, inciting soft moans from Granger. She drove him insane but he kept going, and when she quieted down he dipped two fingers into her, exploring her warm insides. She seemed to be losing herself completely, panting for him, and before long he pulled his fingers out and leaned forward to give her nether region a kiss. She gasped at the sensation and Draco pulled back, and moved up to kiss her lips. He had never touched, much less kissed, a woman down there, and he felt unsure how to proceed. It would take some practice with her before he felt confident in trying again.

He caressed her leisurely, from her breast to her hipbone, giving her soft kisses and slowing down their earlier heat. It only intensified her need for him to go faster, and she found herself getting frustrated at his pace. After having his fingers inside of her, she was ready for more. She pressed her body into his, bucking her hips and trailing her fingers on the hem of his boxers.

He grabbed her teasing hand and plunged it into his underpants, guiding her to his hard-on. The skin was taut and warm, Hermione discovered, though the tip was supple and moist. He moved her hand up and down and groaned at the sensation. She felt herself getting wetter from the satisfaction she was giving him. With her free hand she tugged at his boxers, and he let go of her hand, and removed his last piece of clothing. Now she could see what she had touched. Compared with his fingers it was daunting, and she worried about the pain. He pushed her back into the bed, and leaned over her, kissing her throat again, then her cheek, then her lips. She circled her arms around his neck, and ran her leg up and down his, making more delicious skin contact.

Then he positioned himself and with a look straight into her eyes he thrust himself in. The sharp pain caught Hermione off guard, but he didn't move. After a moment her body began to adjust and he pulled out slightly, then pushed back in. It was painful, but with the pain there was a pressure that felt good, and made her want more. She was conflicted; did she want him to stop or keep going? She bit her lip as he continued. He was lost in the rhythm of their moondance, and he could feel his own need building up. It continued until he lost control, and was spent. She had felt the build up, but she hadn't gone over with him. She suspected, with time, it would happen.

He rolled off her, and kissed her shoulder. She smiled at him, and tucked her body into his. She felt more connected with him than ever, and she couldn't let go. He put an arm around her, reached for the covers, and tucked them into bed.

The following morning, in the early dawn light, they tried again, gaining a more steady rhythm, and this time the ache was dulled, and the pleasure was more for her. She felt herself building up with him again, and when he went she had a minor climax of her own. A few hours later in the shower he gave her a bigger one. She realized later, as they got ready for Ginny and Harry's dinner party, that with practice her peaks would get more and more intense. It was something she looked forward to.

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**A/N:** …finally. Took them long enough! Geez, why did the author have to drag it out for so lon—oh wait, that was me :O! Sorry folks! -_-'

Hope you were _finally_ satisfied. I know Draco was :D And Hermy too of course :3

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posted 9/30/13


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